


It's a Small World

by Get Dunked On (LittleKnownArtist)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Anxiety, Biting, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I don't do slow burn, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Virginity, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Sexual Strangulation, OOCness, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Recovery, Recovery for both reader and papyrus, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Smut, Soul Sex, Violence, Virgin Reader, god am i supposed to tag everything, nervous reader, recovery fic, smut in chapter 6 and 9 and 14, traumatized reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-06-28 18:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15712989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleKnownArtist/pseuds/Get%20Dunked%20On
Summary: You've just moved into the city to be closer to work. Everything is going great, when you meet a pair of skeleton brothers, one of whom is tall and soft spoken...and injured and bleeding in an alleyway. And to thank you for driving him back home to tend to his injuries, he's taking you to dinner?Things progress to the point you think you know Papyrus pretty well, except, you don't. What kind of secrets is he hiding? For one, he has more in common with you than you think.





	1. Practically Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> I'll put content tags at the start of the chapters if needed. Mild anxiety and paranoia.

You had just finished moving the last of your furniture into your new house on the outskirts of the city. You finally found something affordable after a year of searching and dealing with your two-plus hour commute to work. It was small, but it had a little bit of yard and a fifteen minute commute. Plus it wasn't an apartment. That was a big plus.

  
You ate pizza with your family and wished them a safe ride home. Your first order of business was getting sheets on your mattress and flopping down on it immediately afterwards. It was still too early to go to bed so you plugged in your lamp and dug through one of your boxes for a book you hadn't read too many times already. You'd unpack the rest of your stuff tomorrow morning. Moving out of your family home and your old bedroom meant you didn't have a lot to unpack, anyways. You didn't plan on it, but you fell asleep early that night.

  
When you awoke again, it wasn't even twilight yet. You tossed and turned, as it was too early for life yet, but as much as you tried, you had already collapsed into a miniature 11-hour coma, and you physically couldn't sleep any longer. You groaned, shoving yourself out of bed and made your way to your stack of boxes to unpack your coffee maker and get a pot going. You really needed to do shopping today, too, all you had in your kitchen was a box of top ramen, a box of soda and cold pizza from dinner. When the coffee finished brewing, you took a cold bite of pizza with your sip of coffee, noting with annoyance that the sky was only now beginning to change colors on this way too early Sunday morning.

  
As you glared at the sky over the rim of your mug, you suddenly noted two figures coming down the sidewalk rather quickly. Your screwed up your face as you recognized their movements.

  
Joggers.

  
How anyone could get up before the dawn to go running was beyond you. Props to them, but good God. You could barely walk before your first cup of coffee and an hour into your commute on a normal day. Thank goodness you didn't have to commute anymore.

  
As you were a third bite into your slice of fridge pizza, you noticed something about the pair that you had first assumed was due to your blurry vision. Those two definitely weren't human. Now you were more curious. You were glad you hadn't turned on any lights besides your stove light as you watched, feeling a small but like a creep spying on them. There were a few monster families in your home town, and you knew there were going to be more in the city, it was just surprising to see so me within a full day of living here.

  
They were both smallish one was...oh! It was a skeleton. They wore an unseasonable white crop top and red jogging shorts, across the shirt was written 'JOG BOY' in red lettering. You'd never seen a skeleton monster before, but you had heard of them. The other was yellow in color and wore a red tank and at least a dark grey windbreaker with her black shorts. It was too cold to be out like that, honestly. They were going pretty quickly, faster than your average jog, and they appeared to be...having a casual conversation? Geez, these health nuts made you feel really inadequate. You watched them until they rounded the corner into the next street.

  
With that, you finished your fridge pizza and began unpacking the boxes with the stuff for your desk. In ten minutes, it was significantly lighter outside and you heard the sound of rain coming down. You went to crack open the window to listen to the rain and caught the sound of voices outside. You glanced to the side, catching another set of people walking side by side. You'd say they were more joggers, but they were just walking, and walking slowly at that, dragging their feet. As you were seeing them from the back you couldn't make out much about them, except one of them was probably a monster, given the red fins on the sides of her face. She was in leggings and a navy jacket with frizzy red hair in a high pony and seemed to have at least half a brain, shielding the rain under an umbrella. The other wore track pants and a black coat, hood pulled up to protect from the rain.

  
"I'm serious. I can't fucking stand this shit," the hooded one, presumably male from the voice, said. His tone sounded tired and cranky. The monster lady sighed. They got to the end of the block and the guy...got on his knees and just...laid down on the wet sidewalk?

  
"That's it. I'm done. Just...leave me here to die."

  
"And y-y-ou say your b-brother is dramatic. Get up." The lady monster bent over to try to drag the drama queen up by the arm.

  
"The s-s-sooner we get-t t-to your house, the s-sooner we can go back to sleep." She hefted him back to his feet and they rounded the corner. You assumed they must have been with the first pair of joggers, reluctantly roused from bed, judging by the but of conversation you caught. Those two were more your kind of people. Reluctant to get out of bed.

* * *

In two week's time, you considered yourself fully settled into your new routine. You were getting an extra hour of sleep and in doing the math you were getting two more hours of free time every night. You sort of missed home, and you really should visit on the weekend, but you were enjoying the freedom of living on your own and having more free time. Thankfully, you hadn't woken up early enough to catch those joggers (and following slouchers) again, because that would just make you feel totally inadequate about your own fitness level once again. Things were going well.

  
Granted, being all alone at night made your anxiety spike whenever you heard a noise, but it was mostly good. You'll have to consider getting a cat or dog to keep you company, or finally face your incorrigible fear and get a boyfr--

  
No. No. You couldn't do that. Your anxiety was spiking just at the suggestion of dating, of bringing a man into your house.

  
Your company was having a 20th anniversary celebration that night, so you were working late to set up and enjoy the festivities. The company had even invited one of the senators, who had stayed to chat for a bit. Unfortunately, having the venue in the city center meant you had to park four blocks away, so you clutched your mace tightly as you made your way to and from. After everyone said their goodbyes you and your co-worker cleaned up, her taking home the rest of the cake and you shoving leftover samplers in your workbag.

  
It had finally gotten dark during the celebration, and you were walking back to your car with your eyes and ears peeled, when you caught the sound of arguing. Your heart began to pound when you realized it was two make voices and you picked up the pace, while still trying to eavesdrop and...one of those voices...That voice was distinctly familiar. Was it someone from the celebration? You paused. Your bleeding heart was warring against your overdeveloped paranoia, because what if it was somebody you knew, if only barely.

  
"Papyrus, put me down, God dammit!"

  
You stepped closer to the voices, finding them to be coming from the gap between two buildings. A security light shone into the space, so you could decently make out the two figures, one slumped against the wall, and the other...floating about a foot off the ground. With a mild shock, you recognized the floating one as the skeleton higher who went past your house. 

  
"Not until you--ngh--" the other figure hugged his chest and winced, "you tell me you won't go after them, and I'll put you down."

  
Then you remembered where you had heard his voice. You observed the same coat that he had been wearing on that early Sunday morning. These were two of the joggers that went past your house. He was also a skeleton, but much taller than the other who was.

  
"Fine!" The smaller skeleton snarled. The taller lowered his hand and then slid down the wall into a seated position as the other touched down again. He immediately crouched in front of the taller.

  
"Is this really as far as you could take us? God, if you'd let me--"

  
"Stop. You an' me both know what happens when monsters fight back," he huffed.

  
"It was self-defense, idiot! I can't believe you just stood there and--those humans  could've killed you!"

  
"Oh my god," you gasped. These two were...you had heard of monsters being attacked by humans before, trying to fight back, and being the ones charged for assault rather than the aggressors. In fact, you'd filed paperwork for secondary hearings on cases exactly like that, was that what was going on here?

  
With your gasp, the shorter skeleton stood upright, to the tallest of his five foot frame and swung his head around towards you. You squeaked when you made eye contact, or rather, lights in his sockets met your eyes. You swallowed thickly now. You surveyed the situation, sure, you were a lone woman, walking home late at night, confronted by two monsters but one of them was lying there bleeding (how does a skeleton bleed?) and they other was a good deal smaller than you, and did seem concerned about the bleeding one. Plus, it seemed like they had just been through something traumatic. You took a step closer, clutching at your resolve.

  
"Y-you're hurt. Do you need me to call you an ambulance or-or drive you to the hospital?" Your voice wasn't as unsteady as you had feared it would sound.

  
"No..." The monster on the ground groaned. The shorter looked back, stamping his foot.

  
"My brother is right. We would need to explain the injuries and be treated like garbage by those nasty human staff." He huffed. Wow. Way to have confidence in your entire species.

  
"I ain't dying, I'm just...I just wanna go home, Sans. Wrap my ribs, call Asgore and get really drunk."

  
"No alcohol, but I will call Asgore. Give me your phone, mine's busted," the smaller skeleton, Sans, said, jutting his hand out towards his brother. The brother laughed shortly.

  
"Forgot to charge it."

  
Sans screeched suddenly. You took a step back. Your heart was pounding. The guy on the ground tilted his head towards you. It was super creepy to see a skeleton smile.

  
"Sorry about this, lady. You look like a good person, could ya please give us a ride home? I've only got like seven bucks on me, but--"

  
"You live on my route home, it's not a problem to drive you!" You blurted out before you could think. Sans tilted his head. You couldn't really read his face, it was so different from yours and as you stood there, realizing both skeletons were staring at you, silently. Sans then...cleared his throat? How does a skeleton do that? While you were wondering, you realized it was a sound which asked for further explanation.

  
"You uh...you jog by my house." You twisted the trigger for your mace in your pocket nervously.

  
"Well, if our location has been compromised already...Human!" Sans straightened his back and stamped his boot, tucking his hands behind his back. You swore you saw the injured skeleton roll his eyes.

  
"You are to drive myself and my older brother directly to our residence. No detours or funny business, is that clear?" You blinked.

  
"Well, yeah, I already planned on it, so okay."

  
The two of them piled into the backseat of your car and it was only then that you could gauge the depth of the older brother's--who you now knew as Papyrus--injuries. He was bleeding from a crack in the head, the upper arm, and by the dark stains on the front of his orange sweater, his ribs. He was wheezing, like they had been broken. You got the full story from Papyrus, while Sans was reluctant to answer a single question. They had, after all, been attacked on their way home that night. A group of human men had called them a slur, Papyrus flipped them off, Sans shouted back and before they knew it, four guys were after them with garbage as weapons.

  
"Where were you coming back from, anyways?" You asked, looking back at them in your mirror.

  
"Theatre. Sans's turn to pick the movie, so we watched Coco."

  
"Shut up!" You noticed Sans covering his face, which appeared to...be glowing a slight purple color?

  
"And I have insisted you address me with respect!" The tiny, squawky skeleton continued.

  
"As you wish, Baron von Shortstack."  
There was another angry shriek from the backseat.

  
"You're lucky you're hurt," Sans said, crossing his arms and staring out the window. How old was this guy, anyway? 14? He sure acted like a spoiled brat. He was even dressed like a kid, you noted. Red high-heeled boots, fraying black jeans and a black crop top, with 'Bad to the Bone' written in red. Not to mention the fingerless gloves and wristbands.

  
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" You asked for the third time, watching Papyrus wipe some of the blood away from his skull.

  
"Don't worry about it," he said, smiling again "My friend'll patch me up, and another of our friends is a doctor." He...he winked. He really just winked at you in the rearview mirror. Wow. Nooope. You felt uncomfortable. But the guy was harmless, you assured yourself. Better than harmless, he was injured, probably just taking his kid brother to the movies and facing up against speciest violence which was all too common since monsters had arrived to the surface just a few short years ago.

  
You pulled up next to the house Sans indicated, which was entirely surrounded by a six-foot wooden fence. On what you could see of the windows were iron bars and in the driveway were motion lights. Wow, these guys seriously liked their privacy, or maybe their security. The house really was only a few blocks down from your own. And you with your bleeding heart just so happened to be the area when they needed help. Admittedly, it was all in the same city, but wow, what a small world it was.

When they got out of your car, there was only a short 'thanks', no fanfare, no promises, only that. As you drove the remaining two minutes, you heard your own voice screaming at you inside your head. Your sense of self preservation wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you. You couldn't believe you had done that. Let two strange men into your car and drove them along. Two men who needed help, but strangers nonetheless. Two strangers who now knew you lived within jogging distance of them.

  
One of whom was bleeding, you realized as you locked your car, looking into the back seat. At the blood crusted on the cushions.

  
"Dammit."

  
You got out some towelettes and gloves from the glove box to hopefully clean the stains before they could soak in. It was pretty much too late already.

* * *

You had packed a bag to spend the night at your family after that, that stupid paranoia at the back of your head, worried about some strange unforseen repercussions for your good deed that night. After scrubbing your seats to the best of your ability, you couldn't really sleep. You slept a few minutes here and there, but you were still attempting to calm yourself with cat and unboxing videos until dawn. Somehow, with sun up, you felt more comfortable, sleeping about four hours until eleven. You didn't even shower before throwing on some clothes and shoving some items in a bag, calling your family to say you were spending the night.

  
You made your way to the gas station in the next town over, where gas was normally a few cents cheaper and as you came up to the window to pay, you noticed the cashier was sleeping, hood pulled up and face buried in their arms. You felt sort of awkward for waking someone up, but...it they were asleep at their job!

  
You rapped your fingernails on the glass. They didn't budge. You knocked louder, this time they jerked up, and you both made eye contact. On both of your faces were looks of surprise. It was the skeleton from last night. It was Papyrus.

  
You couldn't help but chuckle as he slid the window open.

  
"Well I'll be damned." He leaned his cheekbone on his hand, smiling down at you.

  
"Small world, dontcha think?"

  
"Yeah. I guess so." You shifted on your feet, gazing up at him. He had sharp teeth, you noticed then, and one of his eye teeth (more like canines) had a gold cap. The coat he wore had fluffy fur on the inside of the hood, and between it and his skull, the view of him framed by the window reminded you of one of those gothic paintings of royal figures during those times. You know, when he wasn't covered in blood in a dark alleyway, he was kind of...

  
"Wow you're working today? You looked uh, not in good shape last night."

  
He chuckled.

  
"Well, thanks fer that. But really, sweetheart, I told ya not to worry about it. My friend is good with healing magic, so, apart from a lil' soreness, I'm good as new."

  
You didn't really like being called 'sweetheart' by a young guy, but the way he said it made it seem like it was just his way of speaking, rather than anything intentionally creepy. And did he say magic? That's right, monsters were mostly made of magic. Some could even heal injuries with magic on monsters and humans alike.

  
"That's good to hear. I'm glad you're alright. So...anyways, I need to get some gas." You smiled, gesturing back to your car.

  
He shrugged. "Right, right. Pump tw--holy shit!" His eye sockets opened up wide.

  
"Is that all my blood?!" You looked back in through your car window. It wasn't...that bad...maybe it was, actually.

  
"Holy fuck. I'm uh. Wow. Uh, I'm sorry about everything last night. I didn't even realize I was bleedin' everywhere like that." When you looked back at him, he genuinely looked concerned about it. Sweat even seemed to be beading up on his skull. Actually, he looked really nervous, like you were about to be angry with him or something.

  
"Oh no," you began , waving your hands in front of yourself, "you really couldn't help the fact that you were bleeding, dude. You didn't do anything."

  
"Yeah but..." He paused, "here, I'll pay for yer gas."

  
Your weird sense of anxiety shot through the roof.

  
"Oh, god! No, please don't do that." You whispered those words as you heard another car pull up to a pump behind you.

  
"Really? Then at least let me buy ya dinner. " At that, you felt heat begin to flood your face, both from his suggestion, and from the fact that someone was walking up behind you and you were terrified of making a scene. He must of seen the look on your face, because he continued.

  
"Nothin ' romantic or anythin'. Just, uh, thanking you, an' apologizing for the upholstery. Somethin' like a Denny's. A one time deal."

  
Your cheeks still felt warm, but you considered his proposition. You swallowed thickly. Just...just casual right? Like when you and the girls used to go out for pancakes, right? It wasn't a date. Not really.

  
"That's um. That sounds fine, if you really want to."

  
"Okay. Then, I'll ring you up here." You paid for your gas and he scribbled his phone number on the bottom of the receipt, telling you not to lose it. You shoved it into your purse and got back into your car. As you were getting back onto the highway, you fiddled with the paper in your purse, feeling the edges of the receipt.

  
Had you. Had you really just gotten a guy's number? Had you really just agreed to let him buy you food?

  
But it definitely wasn't a date.

  
Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 100% self-indulgent. I don't care how ooc it is, but I just hope all my friends ignore this and don't look at me any different for writing an xReader fic.


	2. Not a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allusions (read between the lines) to past abuse/assault and general anxiety in this chapter.

The number he had given you didn't really look like a regular phone number, it looked like one of those messenger app proxies. Which was just as well, if he was being safe, you should do the same. You entered in the number, under 'Papyrus The Skeleton ' for now. You downloaded the app and then drafted a text, with your name and that you were the one who drove him home. You never pressed 'send' though. You wanted to have this weekend between yourself and your family, without concern over your upcoming dinner with the tall and moderately terrifying (and more than moderately not scary) skeleton monster.

Even though that was the goal, you just worried about it the whole day. At least you slept better at your family's home though. In familiar company, the noises at night didn't bother you as much as they did when you had your house all to yourself.

Sunday night, when you finally returned home, feeling more at ease, you worked up the courage to send that text. You got a reply as you were checking your calendar for work meetings around ten minutes later.

_Papyrus The Skeleton 7:09pm_  
_-'k im off tomorrow after 5 u wanna go then'_

You scoffed a bit at the text. Was the type of guy who never uses punctuation or capitalization? You were right there by the calendar, you only had meetings in the early hours tomorrow, and since you worked overtime on Friday, you could probably get off an hour early. It would be enough time to change out of your work pants and into jeans.

_You 7:11pm_  
_-'Alright, that sounds good to me.'_

You matched his briefness in text. You didn't want to come off as too overbearing. He texted right back.

_Papyrus The Skeleton 7:12pm_  
_-'where at'_  
_You 7:12pm_  
_-'How about that Shari's on National Ave?'_

That was a casual sort of restaurant, sort of like a Denny's, but they had your favorite dessert. You had work meetings there from time to time, it was best for total not dates, right? Then again, if you ever did want to go on a real date, it would be something more casual, not fancy, because then your date might expect something in return. Like you owed them for the dinner. This was different though. This wasn't really a date. He felt like he owed you. Totally not like a date at all. Or...well, maybe a Wendy's would have been better. You had already sent the text, it was too late to change your mind, now.

  
_Papyrus The Skeleton 7:13pm_  
_-'k glad to SHARIS meal with u at 5'_

Oh, look. Capitalization...wait...was that a pun? You shook your head as you replied back.

_You 7:13pm_  
_-'See you there!'_

Your heart was pounding now. It was good that you'd set it up on a weekday though, right? If you needed to ditch because you were uncomfortable, you could, blaming it on an early morning meeting. You weren't quite sure of his work schedule, since he had been working at the gas station on a Saturday, but you had a pretty regular work week. You could use that as an excuse to get out of a lot of things.

* * *

Things were going to go fine, you assured yourself. You continued to tell yourself that throughout the day. As you wrapped up at work, you must have been showing your nerves on your face, as one of your coworkers asked what was eating you. She had sons your age and was sort of motherly towards you.

"Oh, it's uh, nothing really," you reassured, "just...some stuff..."

"Personal stuff?"

"Well, sort of? Not really?" Was it really that personal? You really didn't want her worrying too much about you.

"I just. Kinda have a...thing tonight? I helped some guy with something the other day and he's repaying me with some food."

"Oh. Is he ugly or just weird?"

"What, no!" You squeaked.

"He's not ugly." Really? He was a skeleton, how could you even gauge his attractiveness by conventional standards? He was tall, at least six foot, and he had a soft way of speaking, some kind of Bronx-esque accent--wait a minute! What were you considering?

"It's not--it's not even a date, I mean, not really." Your coworker looked thoughtful for a moment.

"So you're just nervous about meeting up with him?" You nodded.

"Well, don't expect something awful to happen, it'll go fine. Then after it's over you'll feel better. You stress too much."

"You're not wrong," you did stress too much. At this point it was just part of your personality.

* * *

You changed into jeans and a clean blouse and got to the Shari's quicker than you anticipated, just sitting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes. Your leg began to shake as you stared at the time. It was 4:58. Where was Papyrus? What if he didn't come? What if he just wanted to play a trick on you? Because you were a terrible judge of character and he was actually just having some fun. That was possible, right? You were such an idiot.

When the clock clicked over to 5:01 you sent a text out before you could stop yourself.

_You 5:01pm_  
_-' Heya, Papyrus, we still on for tonight?'_

You stared at your phone as the seconds ticked by, trying to will him to reply. Ten seconds had passed and it dawned on you that maybe he gave you a number proxy was so he could dupe you. Thirty seconds and you considered just going across the street to the Jack in the Box, or maybe going home and just eating some eggs. You even stared at you phone when the screen turned off and you were seriously considering those eggs.

Then your phone buzzed with a text, displaying 'Papyrus The Skeleton' and it almost startled you. You unlocked your phone to read the text with a sigh of relief.

_Papyrus The Skeleton 5:03pm_  
_-'ya im outside the doors i can see your car'_

You looked up, and lo and behold, he was standing by the entrance. You had been watching the entrance like a hawk, how did he just pop up there out of nowhere? You shook your head and got out of your car, walking towards the doors with a wave to greet him. He was in that same coat he seemed to wear rain or shine, as well as...wasn't he wearing that exact sweater Friday night? Wouldn't it be bloodstained? The coat was black, so blood wouldn't show well, but the orange sweater definitely would. Maybe he had multiples of the same sweater. They always tell women to get two of a blouse if they find one that looks good on them. The only thing that differed from all the times you had seen him in the past were that he'd changed out the track pants for a pair of dark jeans.

You ordered quickly, choosing something relatively cheap but something you liked. You didn't want to put the guy out, after all. He ordered nachos, and while he was ordering, he grabbed the slightly less than half full bottle of Tobasco and asked if they had a full one. The waitress raised a brow but told him she'd bring him back a full bottle. That was sort of odd. Did he not trust opened containers? Well, he did appear to have some sort of anxiety back at his work, maybe his paranoia was even worse than yours. As if that was possible without falling down the route of Paranoid Schizophrenia.

Speaking of anxiety, the sound of him fiddling with the pepper shaker was beginning to drive you crazy at the same time the otherwise silence was making you increasingly uncomfortable. His finger bones (phalanges?) made small 'tak-tak-tak-tak' sounds against the glass shaker. You were searching for conversation starters when he finally looked up from the shaker--thankfully stopping his fidgeting as well--and tilted his head with another of those skeleton grins, making his teeth look really, really sharp.

"So, you know what me and Princess Bossypants were doin' the other night, what were you doin' in town?"

You quirked a brow.

" _Princess Bossypants_? You mean your brother?"

He blinked. (Wait did he have bone eyelids or did he just move his eyesockets to close? You'll have to watch that again.)

"Yeah?"

"Friday it was _Baron von Shortstack_. What's with the names?" He leaned back, setting the pepper shaker back on the table completely. He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite.

  
"Ehhh...it's an inside joke, sorta. Sorta a long story." He tapped his phalanges against the table. He then shrugged and leaned forward again. He had dreadful posture in either position, you noticed.

"Actually, it's a funny story, ya wanna hear the shorthand version?" His voice dipped lower and softer towards the end, as if he was about to tell you a secret. You kind of liked the way his voice sounded like that. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't a date.

"Sure," you shrugged, as if his voice had done nothing to your thought processes.

"So, me and him used to work for the monster army, real low on the totem pole kinda jobs, sentries. But Sans, well, he got a series of promotions until he was pretty high-ranking in the army, while I just kept my job as a sentry. Basically, he'd become my boss. My kid brother was my boss," he chuckled.

"Oh, that must have been so embarrassing." That sorta upsets the balance of things, you thought with a bit of whimsy.

"What? Nah, nah, I didn't mind havin' Sans as my boss." He sent you a sort of offended expression. If you were reading his skeletal features right, that is. Welp. You'd already fucked this up. To your surprise, Papyrus laughed.

"Sans is...a really cool guy. If he sets a goal, he always follows through. It's _admiral_ -ble." He paused, looking at you expectantly. It took you a second, but you realized that was a play on words. You let out a chuckle to be more polite than anything. He sighed, but continued.

"What pissed me off was when he insisted I address him in some kinda respectful manner. Little shit thought he was royalty, I swear. Even if we was just the two if us watchin' tv an' I asked him ta turn up the volume or somethin' he'd want me to address him as 'sir,' 'boss' or--and this one took the cake 'my lord'. Asked him if any title of respect worked for him, he gave me the go-ahead. Much as I love the guy, he's an egotistical little prick."

Even though he was insulting his brother then, he still had this fond expression on his face.

* * *

As you ate slowly, you got to know a little more about Papyrus. The guy, unlike what you had first thought, was pretty conversational once you could find a topic. A lot of tonight's topics were his little brother, who you found out was actually 23 years old. It was odd, you had just assumed he was a very young teenager from his height, dress, and mannerisms. As for Papyrus himself, he...he may have sworn like a sailor and told really bad jokes, most pretty morbid, actually, ( _Why is there air conditioning in hospitals? To keep the vegetables fresh_ ) but he seemed like a good guy. A really good guy. Anyone who could talk about their family as fondly and extensively as that had to be a decent person, right?

It was a little weird to see him eat, but you tried to ignore it.

When he wasn't acting like a nervous wreck, he had a pretty calm, playful demeanor that you found that you kinda, sorta, maybe liked about him. You noted that he was dumping an awful lot of tobasco on his nachos. An awful lot. In fact, about most of the way through his meal, he tipped the bottle up, drinking the rest of it down.

"You sure...like spicy food, huh?"

"Yup," was his simple reply, popping the P. He checked his phone then. How it took you almost one and a half hours to eat your food, you didn't know, but Papyrus suggested you order dessert to-go if you wanted to make it out of here before it got too dark.

"Is that alright? You sure I can get dessert?"

"Yeah, s'no problem. I did owe ya for how I left yer car." You didn't really agree, since while you were cleaning his blood, you also found a smashed box of raisins and melted m&ms in the floorboards.

Papyrus paid, and as you exited the doors, you thanked him again for the meal.

"Nah, sweetheart, this was just a thanks for Friday," He shrugged, "have a good night."

But then, as you turned towards your car, a bony hand gripped yours with a "Wait, uh..."

You looked back at him, his expression was...contemplative? Nervous? This was the first time he had touched you, and you were a little surprised. His hand was hard, as you would expect from any science lab skeleton, but his hand also gave off warmth, like any other living being you expected to touch. It was such a strange sensation, like digging a chicken bone out of a hot meal, but not, as his hands were dry and porous. Another thing you noticed was how his hand enveloped your own. His hands were large. A good bit larger than your own, and yours had flesh on them. Then again, he was a good bit bit than you. He had terrible posture but he still looked down on you. And for his lack of mass, he had broad shoulders, too, but that you might chalk up to that coat he always wore, with the big fluffy hood.

You felt your throat tighten up as you stared up into his eye sockets. What was he doing? He looked like...he was trying to read you as you had just read him. He looked off to the side a second then back to you again.

"Drive safe," he said, his voice that quiet, low rumble again that did things to you. He squeezed your hand before letting go. He began to walk in the opposite direction with a wave over his shoulder.

Your cheeks were burning hot, even as you fumbled with your house keys to get in the door. You put your dessert in the fridge and flopped onto your bed, mind racing. This couldn't be right. There was really no denying it though, that, on some level, you were attracted to Papyrus. He was so nice--a little crude--but overall a good guy. But he was still a guy. That scared you so much. You'd had crushes on boys and men before, but that was always somewhere out of reach, superficial and--you were so confused. You couldn't do this. If you pursued him at all...what if he did want sex?

But you liked him! He was a good guy, you couldn't just lump him in with the men who had hurt you. You couldn't...He wasn't even...he wasn't even human. He wasn't human, was he? He was a monster. He was one of the monsters who had come to the surface with that little kid a few years ago. Which means, he could be a lot different from human men.

Some monster types were totally asexual by nature, right? Like Washuas. Washuas didn't want sex because it was too messy. And Papyrus, Papyrus was a skeleton, right? Which means he didn't have any of the fleshy bits associated with sex. Unless he had some kind of boner made out of actual bone, that is. Without the parts, there was a chance he was asexual, right? Even though he could still touch you some way that might hurt you, it wouldn't be that. As much as your body did crave sex and intimacy, there was that deeply engrained fear there, planted long, long ago. Fear and pain, associated with men and associated with men touching you.

It felt sort of shallow now, but even before that last thought in your head, you considered texting Papyrus. You were horribly attracted to him, after all. You really should text him. __

* * *

Three days went by and you never built up the courage to ask him out.

You were awoken just before dawn by the sound of those damn cats again. You groaned, blearily glancing at the time on your phone. Too early for life. Too early to even get up for work. You held your pillow over your head, but the cats' screaming just got louder in response. You were sure the yowling was going to wake up the entire neighborhood. As you lay there, praying for the cats to shut up, the fight seemed to move closer to your doorstep.

"Fuck it!" You flipped the covers back and stumbled into your kitchen, snagging the broom. You opened the door and chased the cats off the porch jutting the broom out towards the toms.

"Break it up!" You thought they had, too, until they scrambled into your backyard, still yowling like they were on fire. You slipped in the mud and landed flat on your back as you threw the broom at them. It finally made them leave, though.

You were completely grossed out as you peeled yourself off the ground, your butt and part of your legs coated in mud. Well, at least with all this extra time, you could put these clothes in the washer. You retrieved your broom and marched around the side of your house, cranky and now fully awake. You stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted the figures on the sidewalk in front of your house.

It was Papyrus and the fish lady.

Oh no. Oh nonoNonONONONO. NO.

They were looking right at you. You. In night clothes, barefoot, holding a broom, muddy with a bedhead outside your house, yelling at oh-god-why o'clock in the morning. You were mortified. You wanted to run for the door but you couldn't do anything but stand there stock still.

"So this is where you live," Papyrus finally said. He stepped off the sidewalk towards you. Oh God why was he coming towards you.

"Looks like you've had a pretty cat-astrophic mornin'."

You flinched. Did he just make fun of you?

"Eh...sorry 'bout that, I was only _kitten_ with ya."

"You saw that..." You whined loudly as you covered your face with your hands, more embarrassed now than you had current memory of.

"Oh shit. Okay, now I'm actually sorry, I didn't mean that." The tone of his voice was distinctly more serious now, but you couldn't see his expression with how deeply your face was buried into your hands.

"It's fine," you mumbled into your hands.

"I know now is a really, really terrible fuckin' time, but I, uh..." He paused. You looked up. He had his hands buried so deep into his coat pockets that he was stretching the fabric. His face really did look apoplectic and apprehensive. Maybe even a little embarrassed?

"I actually was wantin' ta see ya again."

You lifted your face from your hands.

"What."

He chuckled. It sounded too high for him. Nervous.

"I was, wonderin' if you maybe wanted to go out? For real this time. Not just because, fuck, I dunno. You like raisins?"

"Uh..."

"Then how 'bout a date?"

Was this real life? You'd been asked out before. Your overwhelming fear of what could go wrong had always fueled your 'no's. This was...this was different. Papyrus was literally physically different from all the guys who had ever asked you out. he couldn't hurt you like those guys potentially could. Plus, when you weren't mortified or feeling him out, you found him pretty funny.

"R...really? Oh gosh. I'd been wanting to text you back and I...are you sure?" You couldn't keep your excitement out of your voice. Sure! You saw his friend shifting from foot to foot on the sidewalk. She looked pretty uncomfortable.

"Yeah, pretty sure." You could see his shoulders sag, the tension leaving him and letting him shift back into a much more calm posture.

"O-okay. Text me when and where? My schedule is pretty much the same on weekdays."

"I'll figure it out as soon as I get home." As he walked back to his friend standing as an uncomfortable third wheel on the sidewalk, you ran back inside. Your heart was racing, and so was your mind. Not strictly with bad thoughts, but all sorts of things. Your head and heart were filled with all sorts of confusing emotions.  
And you needed a shower and to get your night clothes washed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this fic is 100% self-indulgent, I just wanted to read it, but because I haven't seen it (done the way I'd prefer), I had to write it.


	3. Spicy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, magic skeletons have tongues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: kissing, making out, magic tongue, smoking

Your second, or rather, first real date with Papyrus was even more casual than the first, being getting lunch at Ivar's downtown and throwing bits of bagels at the seagulls along the marina. Papyrus, of course, dumped about half a bottle of tobasco sauce into his clam chowder. The man iked spicy food.

You were surprised to find that Papyrus worked at the Aquarium on Saturday, and he went right from there out to greet you for lunch. You had some sort of strange suspicion that having multiple jobs was the reason he napped at them. Sure, he wasn't the the doctor or accountant your family probably hoped you would date, but he seemed to have some initiative. You also still suspected, at this point, that the man only had two outfits, as he was wearing those same track pants again. At least he wore a grey shirt this time.

Although...you found out that Papyrus was a smoker. Almost as soon as he finished eating, he lit up a cigarette. He noticed that you grimaced when he took his first drag, coughing on the exhale. He told you that his brother had berm trying to get him to quit, but he hadn't had any luck with it. He was so blase about it, too. He didn't sound like he had any real intention to quit. He didn't even have lungs, how was he smoking?

"Heheh, whoops!" Papyrus laughed when a particularly large chunk of bagel smacked a bird upside the head.

"Oh that was rude," you chuckled as the bird flopped over only to get back up to fight with the rest of the birds.

"Eh, it's fine. Bird got up, right?" He crawled up on top of the bench, perching on the backrest, where it was the least wet, feet on the seat. He tore off and pitched another piece of bread into the horde of screaming gulls. You stifled a snort as they chased each other around.

"Terrorizing the wildlife again, Slim?" A voice called out, which you paid no mind to until you heard Papyrus mutter something under his breath. You turned your head in thr direction of the voice. Ah. There, up farther on the path was Alphys, the rowdy lizard monster with her trailing tail and studded denim jacket. Papyrus hadn't told you much about her, besides the fact she had a notorious temper, ten times worse than his brother's, was the highest up on the monster army, and was stupidly in love with that awkward fish lady.

"Slim," Alphys started as she came within normal speech distance, as opposed to shouting distance, "where the hell were this whole week? You slacker, you didn't even go running with us!"

You heard Papyrus groan as he hopped off the bench.

"Working," he mumbled.

"THAT'S a terrible excuse!"

Well, her voice was...certainly very loud. You sort of...shuffled towards Papyrus when she started laughing. She was smaller than you. Well. She was shorter than you anyways. Her arms were bare and she looked like she'd have no problem picking you up and tossing you to the opposite end of a football field. She only seemed to notice you when you scooted past Papyrus a little bit, subconsciously trying to avoid the situation.

"Eh? This her? Didn't realize you had a human fetish --"

Your face flushed and Papyrus spun towards Alphys.

"Would you please shut yer fuckin' yap, Alphys?" He started loudly, but hissed the last half, trying not to draw possible attention from passerbys. Quick as a flash, she snatched Papyrus up by the front of his shirt. You jumped back as Alphys just started to laugh again, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, forcing him to double over to her level.

"Hah! I'm not judging, ya fucking nerd, to each their own..." Her eyes narrowed "but I'd appreciate if you didn't tell me what to do, hm?" You froze as her gaze fell back on you. She smiled, her jagged teeth poking out of her lips.

"Well, hi, anyway. I'm Alphys," she released her hold on Papyrus's shirt to stick out her right hand for you to shake. You hesitantly shook it, introducing yourself as well.

"You probably want this guy back," she said, thumping him on the chest. She released his shoulders and began to walk away.

"Later, girly! I expect to see you up amd ready to run tomorrow, Slim!"

You let out a huge sigh as Papyrus adjusted his coat. Hid cheekbones had color to them. Hm. That was interesting.

"Are all monsters...that...Intense?"

"Yeah, pretty much...goddamn, I need a smoke," he said as he dug on his pockets.

"Except for you, eh? You seem way more chill than some of the monsters I've met."

"Well...heh..." He patted his pockets more. He seemed like he had more to say to that point but he'd dropped the issue.

"Fucking shit, Al. Really? Swiped my fuckin' cigarettes." He scuffed his sneaker against the pavement. You chuckled. He gave you a look of feigned appaul before stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"So... _Slim_? Does she call you that because you're a skeleton, or what?"

He slapped a hand over his face and groaned loudly.

"God no. I'm not tellin' ya that. That's like a third date story."

"Oh?" You grinned. "Is that you asking me put on our third?"

He smiled.

"Second. The first one didn't count."

* * *

That futon was ugly as sin. You didn't even know they made futon beds like this in the, what, 70's? Was that where the paisley print came from? And the frame was scuffed to hell. But...it had a wooden frame, it came with an end table, and it had a "free" sign on it.

It barely made it home. From there, it stood in the corner of your tiny house until Saturday, when you decided you were going to alter a sheet for the mattress, replace three of the broken dowels, sand and paint the frame. It smelled a little bit, but you fabreezed the hell out of mattress, and after you sat on it a while it'd smell like you. You lugged the frame back outside.

You'd been sanding for an hour when your phone made the sound you had specified for Papyrus, knocking. It was fitting, since he liked to send you morbid knock-knock jokes on your lunch break. You pulled it out of your jacket pocket, finding an actual text as opposed to his usual jokes.

_Papyrus 1:23pm_  
_-"can i come over for a bit"_

You had the reflex response to say he could, and nearly responded immediately, but before you could finish the text, you froze. If you...invited him into your house, what sort of additional invitation could that be misconstrued as?

You needed to calm your paranoid ass down. Papyrus was a decent guy. He told dirty jokes in addition to his morbid jokes now that you were technically dating, but he felt safe to you. Except for that wink in the back of your car, nothing he had done as of yet had set you the least bit on edge.

_You 1:24pm_  
_-'Sure, why?'_

You set down your phone. A second later, you heard a sharp buzz, and then, right before your eyes, Papyrus just...came into existence. Right in front of you. Startled, you scurried backwards away from the skeleton.

"Because my brother's got Alphys over cookin', and I don' feel like I should be there when they inevitability cause the explosion that takes out the block. Keep the police questionin' to a minimum, eh?" He said, pinching off the cherry of his cigarette.

"WHat the FUCK?!" You shrieked. Papyrus tilted his head in question as he stuffed his unfinished cigarette back in the box.

"D-did you? Did you just teleport?!"

Papyrus exhaled in that almost chuckle way of his.

"Magic," he said, wiggling his fingers, before shoving his hands in his pockets.

You took a deep breath.

"Right. Magic." Like the telekinesis he displayed over his brother that night in the alley. You really had to get used to all this monster stuff.

"So, whatcha workin' on, darlin'?" He crouched down to his haunches, examining the futon frame. You sighed, picking your sanding block back up, telling him it was your goal to get this sanded and painted today.

"Cool," he said, sit himself down on your porch. You went back to sanding.

Twenty minutes later and the feeling of eyes on the back of your head was beginning to unnerve you. You stared back at Papyrus, who was finishing his cigarette.

"You can help, you know."

"Well," he said, standing up, boy was he tall from where you stood on your knees, "I could." He then laid down on top of the frame. You frowned.

"Seriously, Papyrus?" you chastised.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Gonna rain here anyways," he pointed towards the sky. He tipped his head back to look at you.

Grey clouds were indeed rolling in. You couldn't putty the deeper gouges like this. You sighed.

"Well, at least help me get this inside."

He did help then. You decided to say screw it and set the futon up for the time being, getting a fitted on the mattress with Papyrus's help. He flopped down on it the second you had it made up. You scooted the new end table up to the futon. You set your laptop up to watch something. When you looked at Papyrus again, he was sprawled out with his eyesockets closed.

"Scootch," you told him. He just groaned. Rolling your eyes, you picked his legs up by the bony ankles so you could sit down, you threw them back over your legs once you were seated. Papyrus laughed, not bothering to open his eyesockets. You just leaned over him to watch something on YouTube.

After half an hour, you looked at Papyrus when he shifted. He looked well and truly asleep. Even though he had no lungs, by his own admission, his breathing was calm and even. You watched his chest rise and fall for a few breaths. Something you noticed about him in recent times was the small cracks and old scars littering his face. From what you knew of the Underground, the monsters were cramped down there. They had all fought to survive. They were all scarred, besides the smallest of children, especially those who had been born on the surface. But here, Papyrus dozed peacefully. You glad the monsters could rest easier and spread out. It wasn't a perfect world, but compared to the hell the Underground must have been.

Soon enough though, you had to pee. Papyrus woke up when you lifted his legs. When you returned, Papyrus was sitting back up, rubbing a hand over his skull and blinking to awareness. When you sat down beside him, he leaned over on you.

"Mmn. You make a good pillow."

"P-Papyrus! What are you..." You flushed as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

"Comfy." You looked away from him as he rested his chin on top of your head. He just stayed there though. You suspected he was trying to fall back asleep. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore Papyrus, pulling up another video.

"Wow." He said after a moment. You made a noise of questioning.

"I can...feel yer heartbeat. It's uh. Pretty fuckin' cool if ya ask me."

"My...heartbeat?" You supposed...for a person who had no organs...a heart would feel pretty neat.

"I like it."

It was a light touch against your head, but it was an undeniably intentional touch. He'd pressed his teeth against your forehead. Was that...? You tipped your head back to look at Papyrus. His attention was still on your computer screen. You placed your hand on the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.

"What?" He asked, softly, skull tipping to regard you. You didn't hesitate a moment longer to press your lips against him. His teeth were unyielding as you expected, but then he added pressure against your lips, his way of reciprocating. The phalanges against your waist squeezed gently. It felt...nice.

You pulled away, unable to look him in the face. He chuckled.

"Yer cute, ya know that, sweetheart?" He bent his head down to press your mouths together again. His teeth were hard, but he was surprisingly gentle. At first. Then his teeth moved apart, and something, something much softer brushed against your bottom lip. It surprised you and you whimpered, drawing back from the kiss. Papyrus blinked down at you, and you noticed between his teeth was what looked to be a red-orange coalescence of magic. It was rounded and solid before he closed his teeth.

"You...you have a tongue? You're a skeleton."

"Well," he chuckled, leaning his face close to yours, close enough that if he had a nose, they'd be touching, "makes eating easier. Ever gotten peanut butter stuck on the inside of your teeth?" You rubbed your thumb against his cheekbone again. When you had, in passing, entertained the idea of kissing him, you wondered how it would go. It seemed silly then, he had no lips, how would that work? As much as you liked Papyrus, you wondered if you were willing to give up kissing, and now, you discovered you wouldn't have to.

All it took was a tip of your chin and his teeth were back on your lips. He wrapped his other arm around you and when he opened his mouth this time, you followed suit. You allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, brush against your own tongue, warm your mouth. Smooth...it was perfectly smooth amd and had this buzz to it, like static electricity. You worried, somewhere in the back of your mind, that he would taste like the cigarettes he smoked, but instead...

"Spicy," you uttered, breathlessly. He tasted like the tobasco sauce he drank constantly. You were certain there was the undercurrent of menthol, but the hot sauce overpowered everything else. He kissed you again, his mouth demanding against yours. You sucked in a breath when you felt the touch of his fingertips against the skin of your waist, where your shirt rode up. You squirmed slightly, but at the same time, you refused to push him away. You wanted to continue kissing him. You felt warm, your heart wad beginning to hammer against your ribcage, and your tongue was acting on its own accord, sliding against his. You were really, really, enjoying this.

You broke apart to the sound of music.

"Damn, that's Sans," Papyrus grumbled, sitting more upright. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Y'ello your highness?" You heard some loud squabbling from the other end of the call. You sat up properly, your heart still thudding in your ears. You just...made out with your--was he your boyfriend? Your face felt so warm and you still tasted hot sauce on your tongue.

"Yeah, yeah boss, I'll ask her. See ya then." Papyrus hung up. He leaned back on the futon, throwing one arm over the back.

"It's anime night, ya wanna come over and watch with us? There's gonna be popcorn~" he grinned widely.

"Popcorn, hm? You sure know how to get to a lady's heart." You chuckled.

"Yeah. Alphys and Undyne'll be there. Be sorta like a double date...plus my brother as a, uh, fifth wheel."

"A date, that'd be our third. Ready to tell me about the nickname, hm, Slim?" He made a sort of choking noise, sitting up straight and staring at you, wide-eyed.

"Fuck no. That's only our second. The first one didn't count."

"Yes it did!"

"Nah, " he pushed your face away from him, laughing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 6am. Lord have mercy on me.


	4. Broken Boundaries Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings are just nonconsensual (non-sexual) touching, mentioned physical child abuse, and a fight between siblings.
> 
> This chapter got too long so I cut it in half, but the next chapter is meant as a continuation of this. Thank you to someone who commented. It was the entire reason I managed to knock this chapter out in two days.

By this time, Sans had finally warmed up to you once you followed Papyrus’s advice about letting him win at Mario Kart. Alphys, for whatever reason, liked you from the get-go. It might have something to do with your impressive catch when she threw her phone during an argument with a driver who somehow didn’t see the yellow dinosaur monster crossing the residential street. She’d been unharmed, though you couldn’t say the same for the guy’s hood when she’d slammed her fist into it. The phone had gone flying and you’d caught it from your position across the street, just putting your hands up to protect your face from the inadvertent projectile. The guy had gone speeding off with Alphys shouting some of the…most colorful insults you’d ever heard, Undyne wrapped around her legs and a telephone pole to hold her girlfriend back. If all monsters were intense…Undyne was even more extra than the rest of them.

And her girlfriend…Well, at first you thought she was just quiet…but then you saw how she was looking at sometimes. Then you were even more creeped out when you found out why. She’d been working hard to get her Doctorate approved so that she could officially get on with the local university, and she was looking forward to taking a gander at the cadavers. She said this casually, while she was over, helping Sans with his Halloween costume (a pirate!) She looked straight at you, and in her stuttering voice told you she had always, always been curious about how humans worked, and would love to get the chance to dissect one with parts that still functioned. You felt your face pale when you noticed her grip on the scissors she was using had shifted, ever-so-slightly.

Papyrus had choked on his tobasco sauce but then laughed at the comment.

“Someday I’m sure they’ll let you into a surgery room, but uh…hands off the girl, capiche?”

You watched Undyne mutter something as she shrunk in on herself.

While Papyrus’s friends were…definitely something, you were really surprised at how easy it was to _be_ with Papyrus. You had always seen dating as…putting in _effort_ , but really, it was just like having another close friend. One who you sometimes kissed. A lot. Since you had become a…thing? (He _was_ your boyfriend now, right?) he had loosened up a bit. In addition to his morbid and grimdark type of humor, he had an innuendo for every situation, some which even made you blush, but none directed at you and the majority of them flew right over his brother’s head. You felt awful for laughing at them, especially when Papyrus made jokes and Sans made _this face._ Like he knew that what his brother had said was some lewd joke but he couldn’t understand the punchline well enough to call Papyrus out. You had read your fair share of terrible smut in fanfiction over the years  you couldn't be all that embarrassed by lousy humor. It didn’t bother you much, especially since he expressed ‘not having to worry about that’ when a joke came up about a man getting racked.

Honestly, these monsters were just college students but with full-time jobs. Or, really, Papyrus had at least three jobs that you knew about. He was still the most laid-back of the monsters that you had met, despite his crude sense of humor. He fell asleep on you both movie nights you attended, trying to catch up on the marvel movies. He just wanted to sleep and lay around when he wasn’t working. You still hadn’t forgotten about that nickname Alphys and Undyne both called him, though you would come to collect another time. Papyrus, as it turned out didn’t give much of a shit about whether or not you wore makeup every day. Guy didn’t often change out of track pants, what should he care for? He was probably just as confused about you as you were of him. He was definitely attractive, but you couldn’t be sure by what standards, but was he attractive _for a skeleton_? Was that a speciest question?

You kept questions like that to yourself as you enjoyed your movie nights spent playing video games, and some days spent throwing bread at birds or fixing up that futon. Or kissing. Well, the kissing usually evolved from of the aforementioned activities. Something weird that he did that made you feel a little weird, almost self-conscious, was he would pinch your fat. On your arms, your belly, your back, the little places you wanted to forget you had excess fat. He squished your arms most of all, and you were completely baffled on how to tell him off. You had tried, once, playfully (at least you hoped it seemed that way) swatted his collarbone when he had pinched the bit of fat under the edge of your bra. He seemed puzzled by that reaction, asking you if he caught a loose string of your clothing. You wondered if he really didn’t realize what he was doing.

Somehow it ended up that he thought it was the back stroking that had gone along with the fat pinching that he thought you didn’t want. He knew you liked being petted and stroked. He asked why you wanted him to stop, if you’d strained your back or something. You were such a wuss. You went back on your statement, saying it was nothing, and Papyrus continued stroking your back, but much more gently than he had before.

Something squirmed in your stomach about that interaction. Why couldn’t you just tell him the truth? Was it really that embarrassing to tell him that smooshing your fat made you uncomfortable? That you really didn’t want to be reminded of the bits of flab? Or…was it something else? Either way, you felt so stupid. You weren’t supposed to let anyone ever touch you in a way you didn’t like. Wasn’t that right? Grow a pair, would you? He didn’t squish on you again that day, but if he did, you’d say something…probably…

* * *

It was video game night again, watching Papyrus stumble his way through Resident Evil was fun, despite the fact that both brothers laughed at the fact you were the only one ever startled by the jump scares, although you all panicked when he ran out of ammo. Even if you didn’t get to play, it was loads of fun.

You nearly dropped your flashlight as you came up onto the street Sans and Papyrus lived on. There was shouting up the road. You could see from where you were that two monsters were in the road in front of the boys’ house.

“Papyrus! Get your dumb ass back in here!” You heard Sans shout from the doorway.

“Would you two shut your—” their birdlike neighbor from across the street started, only to be interrupted by both brothers’ “ ** _FUCK OFF_**!”

You gulped. This was definitely not a good time.

“I am sick of this bullshit, Sans!” Ouch. That was Papyrus’s voice.

“You’re so thick-skulled! You can’t keep pretending like this is okay! None of this is okay!” Sans again. You saw Sans and Papyrus clearly now, Sans had ahold of Papyrus’s sleeve, the pair glaring fiercely at one another. They were standing there in the driveway for all their neighbors to hear them airing whatever dirty laundry they had on this particular night.

“ ** _I’M FINE_**!” Papyrus roared. As his voice echoed, a ring of red bones sprouted from the ground, forming a conoid shape, trapping the smaller skeleton and forcing their bodies apart. For a moment, you were terrified that Papyrus had hurt his brother whom he loved so much. You knew Papyrus had a temper. You had heard stories of him of him losing his cool, going off on someone in the underground. He had nearly as much of a reputation for that as Sans had had, but before tonight, in the time you had known him, you had never before heard him so much as raise his voice. Here…he was **terrifying**. His fangs seemed sharper, and his posture as he held his brother down with gravity magic gave him the look of the _monsters_ which haunted your childhood nightmares; bred from cheap special effects of movies of movies much too mature for your developing brain, and your understanding of what _real_ malevolence felt like to an innocent child. but…that true layer of malevolence was absent, and beneath his terrifying visage was simply anger and frustration. The fear that Papyrus had lost his temper enough to hurt his brother was lost in that moment with that recognition. Sans growled, and you saw that his clothing and body were completely intact.

“You stubborn…” Sans’s voice quieted to where you could no longer hear it. Or wait. You had started backing up.

“I’m going for a walk,” Papyrus spat. You turned and ran. You wished you hadn’t seen that. Whatever happened between the brothers…it wasn’t really your business. At least you didn’t want Papyrus knowing you knew.

You only made it a short distance before you were crouched, hands to your knees and panting. These shoes were not your best running shoes. A tap on your shoulder made you nearly jump out of your skin as you spun around, arms flailing.

“Heya, sweetheart.” His voice was smooth as silk. Calm, as per usual. His eyes though. You had learned to read behind that smile and soft voice. He was still terrifying. Not to you, just his whole aura screamed ‘ _danger, Will Robinson_ ’. He flicked some ash from his cigarette.

“What ya doin’ out here, hm?” He asked, bringing the cancer stick to his teeth and taking a deep drag. You watched him blow the smoke out, away from you, before you spoke. His ribs were visible, as he looked like he had dashed out of the house only snagging his jacket. Although he had inhaled a moment before, you couldn’t tell if the smoke filled his chest cavity, as if invisible lungs were at work to draw the plume in.

“I was…just heading to your house. Game night.” You watched the smoke as it drifted upwards in the still night air, praying apprehension didn’t show on your face. He took another drag, huffing the smoke out through his nasal cavity before rubbing that hand along the back of his cervical vertebrae.

“Eh, let’s just head back to yer house instead. Watch a movie. How’s ‘bout the Nightmare Before Christmas? I hear the main character’s a skeleton.”

Your pause must have been too long, because he wrapped a hand around your waist, and you felt yourself again being pulled into a teleport. It always felt so strange, and it left you with goosebumps for minutes afterwards. You closed your eyes to the spark of magic and then you were touching down in your front lawn again. Your house was directly under the light pole, plenty of light to see by as Papyrus released you and stomped out his cigarette butt.

“Ya dropped this on my street,” he said, pulling your flashlight from his pocket. You must have dropped it when you turned to run. You looked from the flashlight, up to Papyrus. He wasn’t mad. His smile was knowing, sympathetic.

“How much did ya see?” You retrieved the flashlight, stuffing it into your own pocket.

“You want to talk about it?”

Papyrus huffed, shaking his head. You unlocked the door and lead Papyrus inside, him plopping himself on your futon couch. He tilted his head when you covered him with the throw blanket. You didn’t say a word until you got to the fridge. You relayed your fridge’s drink contents, asking if he wanted anything.

“Beer,” he replied.

“Okay, but I only have one more, I don’t think you’ll be able to drown your problems in alcohol tonight.” You handed him the beer, sitting down beside him, curling your knees to your chest to get comfortable.

He handed you your laptop to enter the password before loading up the movie. The volume was low and the captions were on. You had seen this movie numerous times, and you suspected Papyrus had as well, having been living topside three years, he was bound to have seen just about every skeleton movie. You knew the story, and so as the Pumpkin King was introduced in a song, your mind began to wander. You felt the blanket being draped over you a moment before he spoke.

“I don’t want you to worry about this thing with Sans. It’s the same stupid argument we keep havin’. We always get over it,” he said, softly, “I wish ya hadn’t seen it, but nothin’ ta do about it now.”

“You were having the argument in your driveway. I’m pretty sure your whole fucking block both heard and saw it.”

“Right…”

You stretched your arms, trying to look casual, as if you were unbothered by the fight you had witnessed between these two brothers who loved each other dearly. Unbothered by seeing your boyfriend with such a scary face and sharp tone.

“What was the argument about?”

Papyrus went silent and still. Earlier, he had indicated he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Maybe you had overstepped your bounds by asking about it again.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to—”

“Nah, nah…It’s fine…” you uncurled yourself, setting your feet on the floor, angling your body towards him. He was playing with the end of his zipper, over his bare ri—Oh **_wow_** _you could see all the way down his pants through his pelvis! Don’t look. Don’t look_! Wait a minute. There really was nothing there. Just a bare skeleton, like some science lab skeleton. Huh. Definitely no bone boner in there.

Your eyes snapped back to his face before he could notice where you were looking.

“We had a really shitty parent.” His voice was even and low, as if he was telling you the date.

“Sans doesn’t remember how shitty they were, because he was too young and…and I always tried ta protect him, y’know? He really only remembers them from the stories told about how great ‘royal scientist River’ was but. They weren’t. Didn’t get these scars from fighting.”

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

“He doesn’t even remember our dad, won’t believe Gaster’s our old man. He was a good man before River fucked him up. Still is.”

“Oh… _Oh, Papyrus…_ I’m so…” He pushed your hands away as you reached up, gently tracing a scar on the side of his skull. His fingers wrapped around yours.

“I’m fine.” His voice echoed the words he had shouted at his brother earlier that night. Softer though they were, you recognized the same denial in them that you just now realized had been in those words directed at his brother. They didn’t make sense though. Not in the context of what he had told you. Not if what he had said about the origins of the fight with his brother were to make any sense. It felt like he was holding something back. As if this were a facsimile of the truth, and not the true, blue, unedited truth.

“I don’t want my whole night ta be about the fight I had with my baby bro, of shit that should be left alone, okay?” He said this, but he brought your hands back to his skull, pressing your palm against him. His bones were warm, smooth in places, rough in others. You knew this well.

“Let’s just watch the movie.” By now, Lock, Shock, and Barrel were in the planning stages to kidnap good old lobster man. Papyrus leaned against you, wrapping his one arm around you for a comfortable position, and you leaned back against him. He wasn’t the most comfortable person, especially without his thick sweater to pad his hard ribs, but he was toasty warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note, I headcanon that in the swapped universes, the Riverperson is the royal scientist and Gaster is a second parent to the skelebros. River used Gaster for an experiment and destroyed his mind and body, leaving him with a dementia like mentality and a goopy body.
> 
> I never expected anyone to enjoy this fic, so I'm kind of embarrassed to post the next few chapters, but I'm doing this for me, as it's somewhat therapeutic, so I'll just keep on trucking and writing this how I originally planned, and if people like it? Great bonus! Seeing nice comments encourages me greatly.
> 
> ;)
> 
> Thank you, readers!


	5. Broken Boundaries Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'll put a summary at the bottom, in case the panic attack doesn't suit everyone, if you'd rather not go through that, don't read past the ~~~~~.~~~~~.~~~~~
> 
> Content warnings for:  
> Mentions of sexual assault, Mentions of rape, Mentions of child sexual assault, Mentions of child rape, PTSD, Panic attack, Disjointed thinking, Nonconsensual (non-sexual) touching, Mentions of physical child abuse, Victim blaming, Anger, Talk of genital mutilation

As Oogie Boogie began his match with Jack, you noticed that Papyrus’s hand was stroking your back again, his fingertips coming to brush into your hair every so often. That felt nice.

That nice feeling stopped as Jack followed Sally up towards the hill, and you felt Papyrus starting to pinch a bit of fat between his fingers again. You were going to say something this time. You were going to say something this time. You were going to—

“Ouch!” you squealed as Papyrus pinched the sensitive underside of your arm. He jerked his hand away.

“Stop doing that!” Your voice was shriller than you planned, rubbing your arm.

“Oh, yer arms are sensitive?”

“Well, yes but…” You sighed, “In general, I want you to stop doing that.” Papyrus wore a confused expression. You cut him off before he could speak.

“I am okay with you touching me, but this pinching my chub? Not cool. Why do you even do that?”

“Because it’s…uh…I guess just because it’s squishy? I mean, look at me. It’s way different than the stuff I’m made out of, so it’s sort of…like a stress ball?” You frowned.

“You’re using my fat rolls as a stress ball?” You squinted at him, somewhat annoyed with the comparison.

“Well when you say it like that—”

“It makes me feel,” oh, here it comes, “like…I just feel like you’re pointing it all out to me when you do that. Makes me feels really fat and gross. I mean, I knew that before but,” you paused when you heard the clack of bone on bone. You looked up at him, his hand sliding down his face.

“I forget fleshy critters are sensitive about that shit, sorry. But really, I didn’t think anything of it, it’s just…I dunno, compare me to Undyne if ya want, but I like seeing how your body’s kinda different from a skeleton monster’s.”

“Well,” you began, “I still don’t want you doing that. Especially not my arms or belly. It’s weird as hell.”

He hummed, almost sounding thoughtful, but you knew better. He was plotting something. You tensed as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and leaned you towards him again, against his chest. You relaxed incrementally when you felt his breath against your neck, his face nuzzling into your neck.

“You love this, though,” he purred against you. Your face felt warm. For some reason you broke out into a fit of giggles. You pushed slightly away from him but tipped his chin up to plant a kiss against his teeth. He pressed back for a second kiss a moment later and you chuckled. Soon his tongue slipped out to join yours. Your arms wrapped around him and soon you were tangled in each other, your face flushing warmer when you felt his bare collarbones under your touch, reminding you of his neglect to properly clothe himself before running out of the house. That’s right. The reason you were here instead of his house was because he’d had that fight with his brother. Over…over a presumably abusive parent that Sans couldn’t remember.

Something in your posture must have tipped him off that your thoughts were of something else, because he shifted to nuzzling his face against your cheek.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry, about all the shit you had to put up with. Your…your parent left these…” your fingertips brushed the scars at his temple, “how’d you turn out so good?”

You felt his arms stiffen around you. You saw some of that strange skeleton sweat beading up on what little of his skull you could see. His arms squeezed against you suddenly. Not like when he was pinching your fat, but like he wanted you closer, but his ribs were in the way. It wasn’t to the point where it hurt, but you couldn’t really squirm if you wanted to.

“ _I’m fine,_ ” he whispered. It was then that you noticed how quick his breath was coming.

“Let’s not talk about it, okay? And besides, I’m not as good as you think I am. I’ve killed people, you know?” You did know. Monsters had to kill to survive in the underground, lest they be killed themselves. Humans had declared that the crimes of monsters before their arrival had to be left in the Underground, where they had already been tried and punished under the monster jurisdiction, otherwise the court would be up to their ears in double jeopardy claims, and no one wished to file all the paperwork for _that_. It didn’t matter to you. Monsters had, in better circumstances, proved to have good hearts with rough exteriors by the environmental factors, and Papyrus was no exception.

“You’re good to me.” There was a pause before Papyrus let out a breath, almost a chuckle. His breathing was still shallow.

“I’ll be good.” His hand cupped the back of your head and you closed your eyes as he kissed you again. His mouth held all of your attention for those brief moments, you didn’t even notice when he drug you onto his lap, not until he broke away to pay attention to your throat. You tipped your head back, allowing the small nips he covered your neck with, wondering how he was dealing with your weight on his lap. He was a skeleton, so he couldn’t be over 13 kilograms himself. You were a lot more than that, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned as he laved your neck in firm strokes of his tongue. The little love bites moved down to your shoulder, one of his hands brushing the hem of your shirt away.

His femurs didn’t make for the most comfortable seat, but you enjoyed the attention, especially when he brought his mouth back to yours. His tongue did the _most wonderful_ things to you. You shifted to get more comfortable, and he grunted. You really were leaning a lot of your weight onto him, after all. You shifted again and…

_Huh?_

What. What were you feeling under your ass? Two femurs and…No. Couldn’t be. He was a skeleton. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

You shifted again, Papyrus’s teeth scraping against your shoulder. You craned your neck to look between your bodies. You saw straight down through his ribcage, into the open cavity of his pelvis. You didn’t know what you were looking at, but the soft glow cast on his pelvis was the exact same shade as his tongue. _He_ shifted this time, rolling his pelvis, and now you were sure of what you felt.

You scrambled away from him, nearly dragging you both onto the floor. You jumped up, trying to back away on some instinct, but Papyrus had a handful of your shirt.

“What happened? You okay?” Papyrus asked, his tone a mix of concern and confusion. He stood to join you and your eyes darted to the front of his pants, where the cloth was beginning to tent up, and you could swear you saw the glowing outline of _something_ through the fabric. He followed your gaze, shifting uncomfortably.

~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~.~~~~~~

“Heh.” He was smiling. Your eyes flicked back to his face, and you realized his jacket was thrown over the back of the couch. He was standing there, in the middle of your studio in only a pair of track pants with some kind of magic erection and he was _smiling at you_. You swallowed thickly. Your eyes found the beer can he’d set by the corner of the futon. One beer wasn’t nearly enough to get him drunk, but what would _he_ say? You were so fucking stupid. You were so stupid.

“But you’re a skeleton,” you tried to justify.

“Heh heh,” he chuckled, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, eyes directed away from you, a flush coming to his cheekbones, “Yeah, that don’t mean I can’t have a good time.”

“Whatcha say, sweetheart, you wanna have a _good_ time?” Papyrus asked, but all you heard were the words of the first man who’d ever hurt you. You weren’t a grown woman in that moment. You were the little girl who didn’t understand what was going on. Who didn’t understand what was happening or what _he_ was doing to you. Standing before you wasn’t Papyrus, or at least wasn’t the Papyrus with the calm voice and the frequent bouts of anxiety. He was the angry, snarling Papyrus who you had seen earlier in the evening. There were thoughts of him wearing that same face he had, only with that added malevolence you remembered in memories of evil men, when you told him his girlfriend wasn’t willing to…

“No,” you croaked. You stared at him, heart thumping, thinking terrible thoughts. He looked back at you, and his smile fell.

“Oh, hey. You okay? I uh, heh,” his chuckling sounded nervous again, too high for his voice, “maybe that wasn’t the best way ta phrase that but—you’re okay, aren’t you?” You wondered what sort of expression you must be making. He had to have noticed something as he took a step forward.

You hated yourself. You hated yourself for the thoughts swirling around your head. On some level, you knew that this man was good. This man was not aiming to hurt you. Just because his body _behaved_ a certain way, didn’t mean he meant to hurt anyone. But deep in that stupid crevice of your mind, seeping out like carbon monoxide to poison the greater areas of your mind which you had crafted to combat your fears, those fears reasoned that he really was no different from any other man. You liked Papyrus, and deep down, you craved greater forms of intimacy but…you couldn’t. Your brain wasn’t functioning well right now.

“Hey, hey. I figured ya might be a virgin, I was just messin’ with you but—”

“It’s not that,” you tried, voice just above a whisper. Papyrus was a good man. You tried to tell yourself that over and over. He deserved to know what was happening to you.

“Eh?” his hand encircling your forearm was firm, yet gentle, but in your panic, it felt like a vice. You jerked your arm away, but his grip held. You crouched, cowering, trying to pull yourself away. Your greater thought processes were completely absent as you found yourself in the midst of a full-blown panic attack, his hold on you doing all that was needed to worsen it.

“ _Please_ ,” you begged, “ _pleasepleaseplease don’t._ ” You weren’t trapped. If you tugged just a little harder, your arm would come lose from Papyrus’s grip. Not to mention you still have three limbs and a mouth full of teeth free—if this were someone who posed an actual threat—but you _felt_ trapped. You felt like a trapped animal. A confused, scared little child, back all those years ago. You couldn’t move.

“ _I don’t—I don’t—_ ”

“Why—hey, hey, yer okay, yer okay…stop crying, you’re…” You didn’t even realize that tears had beaded up at the corner of your eyes. You felt his other hand on your shoulder as Papyrus paused. Your eyes, wide and wild, found his face again. His expression was almost blank, but his browbones seemed drawn together. Anger. He was mad at you. _Oh god,_ he was mad at you.

“Who was he? An ex-boyfriend?”

“Huh?” You asked, staring at him, wide-eyed and confused. He wasn’t mad _at_ you? Your brain still wasn’t functioning.

“The—” he lifted his hand from your shoulder, bringing it into a fist at his side, “This motherfucker who’s gonna be losin’ his balls real soon. Your ex-boyfriend.”

“No. Oh no, no, no.” You were trying not to sob. He had figured it out, at least in part. You had hoped he wouldn’t find out. You had been getting so comfortable around him. You had hoped that he would never have to find out, either by you getting over this stupid shit, getting fully comfortable, or by never having to broach the subject because...because he was a skeleton. God, a large part of why you wanted him was because he seemed ‘safe’ but god dammit. That was so stupid. He wouldn’t hurt you. Whether he was a skeleton, a human, a dragon, what have you, Papyrus was Papyrus. He was a good man. He deserved to know why you were so fucked up. Why he didn’t want you. You should have never agreed to go out with him.

“It wasn’t—I wasn’t…A boyfriend…I was only. I was just a little girl,” you croaked. You were so weak. “ _I was just a little girl_.”

“What.”

His tone was utter disbelief. Some of the adults you tried to tell didn’t believe you either. You didn’t have the vocabulary to explain what had happened. _You were only a child, after all_. Things like ‘rape’ and ‘sexual assault’ weren’t things you understood fully. You didn’t understand what they meant, and you didn’t understand how much it would fucking hurt to have people not believe you. To look down at you. You should have been old enough to understand. You should have fought back harder. You shouldn’t have stayed silent. You should have kept it to yourself. All these confusing viewpoints tossed out there just left you feeling worse and worse about yourself. You hated yourself. He should too. His disbelief was justified.

His grip tightened on your wrist. It was starting to hurt now, his phalanges digging into your flesh. You whimpered and crouched lower. His expression, you saw, was livid.

“What was _his name_?” He hissed.

“No. No. I don’t—it’s over—it’s over! Please don’t! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have s-s-s-said an-n-ny-nything.” You couldn’t keep your breath stable.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry.” He released your arm, drawing back as if it had burned him. You tucked your arms around yourself, then raising them to cross them in front of your chest. You took two deep breaths before Papyrus spoke again.

“I won’t hurt you, okay? Shit, I didn’t fuckin’…Just cuz I’ve got a boner, it don’t mean I’m gonna do nothin’ okay? I wanna make that clear, ‘kay? Shit. Goddamn, did ya think I didn’t uh, have a dick? Is that why…”

“You don’t want me,” you said, heart still racing, but getting a better grip of your thought processes.

“What? God, no. No, I like you,” he said, it sounded like he was trying to defend himself, but you couldn’t look at his face. You saw him take a step forward.

“Papyrus, I can’t do this—” suddenly, you found your face crushed against a hard sternum, bony arms wrapping around your back. You felt trapped again. Papyrus wouldn’t hurt you. He just said he wouldn’t but god, didn’t he know that your brain told you that he was restraining you? That this wasn’t a hug meant to be comforting, that it was, instead, a hold meant to keep you from escaping.

“Shh, shhh. You’re fine…You don’t have anything to be sorry for…” He continued that way, telling you did nothing wrong, that you were okay, that…the words were meant to be comforting but they did nothing to soothe you.

“Let go!” You snapped finally working yourself back up into a panic enough to push him away. He stumbled back, his face trying to settle on one emotion and failing. You wiped your tears away.

“I like you. God, I like you so much, but I can’t deal with this right now—”

“Sweetheart—”

“Please, please just go away.”

“Babe, sweetheart, I’m sorry—" You cringed.

“Papyrus, you didn’t do anything. I’m the one who’s fucked up. You deserve better th—”

“Hey, don’t ya say something so stupid when I—”

“Please!” you kept interrupting each other, “ _please_. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have gotten like this, just because, because…” you looked down. The glow, along with the tent were completely gone from his pelvis.

“Just—” your voice cracked, “just let me be alone right now? I don’t want to talk about this.” He whispered your name, forcing you to meet his eyesockets, since he so rarely called you anything but pet names. His expression was so…hurt and angry and confused and worried. You couldn’t decide which was more prominent.

“Please, just get out of my house.”

He stood straighter. He frowned but nodded. As magic flashed, he looked so hurt, and his expression killed you. You collapsed onto your futon, curled up and facing the back of it. Your heart was still racing, and your head was filled with thoughts of your trauma and what Papyrus must think of you now. You were horrible. He was just trying to comfort you while you were having a panic attack, but he was a young man, bigger and stronger than you, skeleton monster or no, and the thought terrified you. You were so fucked up. You craved intimacy, still, but if finding out he has a _penis_ sent you spiraling like this, then what the fuck were going to do about it? He wasn’t going to hurt you. If…if you ever wanted to have sex, you could ask him for patience and gentleness, and Papyrus seemed like the type to oblige.

Or he’d never want anything to do with you, especially sexually, after your display tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary
> 
> Reader has a panic attack, spills the beans about having been sexually assaulted as a child, Papyrus tries to comfort reader, but only makes things worse, Reader needs time alone, and he leaves.
> 
> As I said before, this story is self-indulgent. I wrote about this in my longfic "Little by Little" but some men get very angry when they find out their partner had been sexually assaulted, and since men try to fix everything, they try to fix a situation they can't fix, and their emotions get all out of whack.
> 
> As for "Reader" the want for intimacy and sexual intimacy doesn't go away despite the trauma and repeats of trauma by multiple men in "Reader"s life. Despite the PTSD and panic attacks, nervousness about men, "Reader" still wants love, sex, intimacy, companionship, in addition to comfort and safety, but sometimes these things clash.
> 
> With THAT out of the way, there's going to be some steamy times in the next chapter? You all wanted a naked skeleton, right? I know, weird timing, but next chapter takes place after some time has passed.


	6. Cracks Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another two-parter. I haven't written the second half, but this chapter got to the length of the other chapters and while I don't mind writing an 8k chapter, I used to do it all the time, I wanted to keep somewhat consistent for this story. 
> 
> Content warnings: SLIGHT SMUTTY THINGS, Slight mentions of child abuse (barely), mention of panic attacks.

“Mn…” You breathed harshly against Papyrus’s shoulder. You bit gently into his collarbone as he ground his pelvis against yours. He chuckled at the action, reaching up to cup your breast in one hand, pinching the nipple between two knuckles.

“Feel good?” He asked, his breath tickling your ear. He lifted his chest up, adjusting the angle at which his hips met yours. He ground against you more firmly, his cock sliding against your folds pleasantly. You were already soaked and you just needed, _needed_ him inside you. You rolled your hips up against him, loving the pressure against your clit.

“Please,” you begged. You wanted him so badly.

“’ _Please_ ’, what?” He smirked down at you, sockets half closed, the tip of his tongue running over his teeth. You whimpered. It was embarrassing to say what you needed from him. You gripped onto his ribcage, weaving your fingers in and around his ribs, stroking along them, one thumb stroking his sternum. He sighed heavily and gave your breast a squeeze, rolling the pliant flesh in his bony hand.

“What is it that ya want, hm?” He teased. He stopped moving his hips, just resting against you.

“Papyrus!” You whined, trying to lift your hips back up to his, to get that rhythm back, that friction you just had to have. You needed him inside you, moving against you, something—anything!

“Please, please, just…” You growled in frustration, wrapping your arms around his back, trying to hold him closer, trying to make him move. You needed it so badly.

“Shhh, shh. I’m just messin’ with ya, darlin’.” He dislodged his hand from your breast, wrapping it instead around his cock, a faint red-orange glow reflecting off the white bones of his hand. He rubbed the tip against your folds, against your clit and all the way to your opening a few times, still teasing you. You bit your lip, it felt good, so so good, but you needed him to just get it over with. You whimpered your impatience. He chuckled, lining the tip up with your entrance, leaning back over you pressing his teeth against your lips and drawing you into a deep kiss, letting his tongue twine with yours. God, how you love that tiny bit of spice on him. He drew back with a small growl, low and sensual.

“ _That’s a good girl._ ” It was the last thing he said before darkness began to drown your vision.

* * *

You came to consciousness slowly, trying to fight it. Your hips were still moving thighs rubbing together to get some form of stimulation as the remnants of the dream still affected you. You tangled your fingers tighter into your covers, trying to resist wakefulness. Soon, however, you were only looking at the blackness behind your eyelids. You couldn’t feel his body against yours anymore, and you felt cheated to open your eyes to your wall.

“Dammit,” you muttered, rolling further onto your side. You hated waking up from dreams like that. They always ended much too soon. You didn’t have them often, usually featuring some faceless person, as of late featuring Papyrus, though this was the first time he’d ever actually had a dick in the dream. Usually he was just touching you, whispering in your ear, making you feel good using his hands or his serpentine tongue. Oh yeah, that’s because before a couple days ago, you didn’t even know he’d had a dick.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. You didn’t need to be reminded of that. You felt so awful about how you had treated Papyrus that night. And for what? Then you go and dream about fucking him right after you _revealed_ that shit to him. How you were so freaked out by that fact that he could get turned on by you and that he had a dick by the same means which he had a _tongue_ , that you spiraled into a panic attack. How messed up were you that even though the thought of sex scared you to death, you still wanted him? You wanted him _badly._ Yet, you had still told him to get out of your house. As if you wanted nothing to do with him after finding out something about his body which he had _absolutely no control over_. No more than he could help being born a skeleton, or you a human. Preferences were one thing but…

You hated yourself. You hated yourself moreso because even though you were sure Papyrus wanted nothing more to do with you after your disgraceful display, you wanted to crawl back to him. You wanted to apologize. You wanted to kiss him again. Hell, you wanted to touch his ribs as you had in your dreams. You wanted to…you had sometimes thought about it in the past, but you sort of…you wanted to touch him. You wanted to hear his voice exactly as you had in your dream. You wanted…you wanted to taste him. Could he even cum? Would it be salty?

You let out a sound of distress, tearlessly sobbing in frustration. You rubbed your legs together again, realizing that you had your blankets still shoved between them. Only, when you opened your eyes, you saw, to your dismay, that you had kicked your blankets off in your sleep. Instead, you had one long sleeve of an oversized black coat between your legs. You’d been humping the coat Papyrus had left behind in your sleep. You groaned, yanking the coat from between your legs and clutching it to your chest. It still smelled like cigarette smoke and spilled tobasco sauce. You needed to give it back to him today, before you got any more of your scent onto it. Although, considering how wet your panties were, you might need to wash it before you gave it back to him anyways.

You were so gross.

* * *

Your days had gone by in a blur, and today was no different. You decided you were going to drop the coat (which, thankfully, looked clean enough) off after work, try to apologize ~~get him back~~ and curl up in a blanket nest with some eggless cookie dough for the entire weekend. Word must have gotten around that something was going on between you and your boyfriend, since one person asked about your emotional state. Either that, or you were afflicted with resting bitch face the rest of the week. You barely talked to your coworkers, and even when you had to during a meeting, it was short and concise input.

Then, finally, it was Friday evening. You opened your car under your umbrella as the autumn rain came down in sheets. You sighed when you got stuck halfway through an intersection. Traffic was backed up basically the entire route home thanks to the rainstorm— _oops, thunderstorm_ , you corrected as lightning flashed overhead and you counted the seconds between that and the thunder boom. You hadn’t been keeping tabs on the weather reports, so this annoying storm had probably only snuck up on you, what was everyone else’s excuse? You turned on the news radio, and not thirty seconds into the broadcast, it relayed that there had been an accident up ahead. With that, you made the executive decision to pull off and take the roundabout way home. On a normal day, it doubled your drive time, which was still better than it had been before you moved into the city. You could put up with it, since the direct route would probably take a lot longer.

As you drove, you noticed you weren’t the only driver taking this route, but it still appeared to be quicker. The pickup ahead of you was _almost_ doing the speed limit. Your mind began to drift, suddenly remembering that you needed to stop elsewhere before you made it home, the folded coat in your passenger seat catching your gaze.

“Papyrus…” He hadn’t texted you since Wednesday night. He hadn’t come for his coat, anything. He was probably really hurt by your reaction. Hurt by the implications that _he_ might hurt _you_. That you thought he was exactly the same as the people who had hurt you in the past. He probably thought you were disgusted by him just because—oh screw that! You didn’t think any of that! Your lizard brain wasn’t in charge. Your big mammal brain could override that, and you didn’t think any of that about Papyrus…right?

He might not want to see you or…maybe he was trying to give you the space you asked for? There’d been brief periods where you didn’t talk, after all. You’d been busy at work and he had what seemed like a lot of friends to socialize with. Just because the last time you had talked had been on not the best terms, with you shaking and panicking and him angry and trying to fix things, it didn’t mean _you,_ as a _couple_ were on bad terms. Not at all.

A branch came flying against your windshield with a loud _SMACK!_ Startling you out of your thoughts. The rain was really coming down, and now the wind was starting to kick up. It was at that point that you noticed exactly how many twigs and branches were scattered across the road. This looked like it was actually going to work itself up into one hell of a storm. That was fine. You were almost home. You would just drop off the coat and then drive the couple of blocks home to hunker down in your blanket nest.

While you were thinking of it, you picked up your phone from the center console intent on plugging it into the charger, when you noticed the screen flashing with a notification. You checked your mirror to see no cars behind you and slowed your car as you glanced down to see what the message was, keeping one eye on the road. You hadn’t seen it ever flash like that for a text message, but what if it was from Papyrus? You really shouldn’t be looking at your phone while you drove, though. You clicked on the screen to see that it was not a text, but rather a severe weather notification.

A windstorm, damn. Back in your hometown, whenever a bad enough windstorm rolled through, you wound up without power for at least two days. Hopefully it was different in the city, where the power grid was fair enough that you didn’t even _lose_ power. You sped up a little, trying to get home quicker, but also remain at a safe speed. You let out a heaving sigh of relief when you turned onto Sans and Papyrus’s street. Wait.

Had Papyrus even gone home that night? Oh no. He’d had a fight with his brother, that was the whole reason he’d been at your house in the first place. You’d told him to leave, without the option of anywhere else to go. You didn’t even check in with anybody. You hoped to all hopes that he’d been able to stay with a friend. He might not even be here, but you could still leave the coat with Sans. You hoped Sans was home. They had no windows in their garage, so you couldn’t see if Sans’s motorcycle was here or not. If neither was here, then they weren’t here. You could just come by another day.

Yeah. Another day. Tomorrow was a weekend. Sans should be here after his morning jog, at least.

You parked in the driveway, squinting against the floodlights, under which, you saw just how sideways the rain was coming in. Your umbrella would be of no use, so you just tucked the coat under your own and made a dash for the fence. The fence was latched, as usual, but Sans had been keeping it unlocked as you began coming over every other day, unannounced to him, but not to Papyrus. You shut it behind you, as Sans would have a fit otherwise, and jogged up under the eaves. You shivered from your wet hair. As you lifted your hand to knock on the door, it was suddenly thrown open and a short skeleton was standing in the doorway. You stared at him for a moment, him looking perturbed as usual.

“Get in here, you dolt, you’re letting cold air in,” he said, ushering you into the foyer, slamming the door shut behind you. You spun around to face him, and he set a hand on his hip as he turned back towards you with a glare.

“Alright, come in here.” He huffed, stepping past you into the living room.

“I-I uh, won’t be staying long, I just came to drop off—” you pulled Papyrus’s coat from under your own. Sans tilted his head to the side as he examined the garment. Then he smiled.

“You laundered it, excellent! I had been trying to get Papyrus to wash that musty old thing for the longest time.”

“Yes, and I only wanted to drop it off…is…is Papyrus here?”

Sans frowned, his hand dropping from his hip. His expression wavered into something strange for a moment…sadness? Was this because Papyrus had told him that you weren’t on the best terms right now?

“That lazy old dog is sleeping,” he said, expression right back to a more normal expression, “you can put that in the hall closet. I’ve just tried a new recipe for hot cocoa, you must stay for at least one cup. I am certain you would love it!”

Oh no. Sans’s recipes were…very hit-and-miss. At the same time, with Sans, he literally would not let someone leave until they had tried some of a recipe. He was appalled when you mentioned that some humans could literally die from ingesting, or even coming into contact with nuts or other allergens, so he shouldn’t make anyone eat something they were allergic to. Sans agreed that this was fair. At this point, that meant you doubted you would make it to the door before Sans had a wall of bones up. Trapped. Huh. It was funny. If Papyrus’s magic could manifest into a dick, then that meant—nope! Not going there! Not an appropriate thought path, especially when it was centered on your boyfriend's brother.

Even though there was nothing physically forcing you into the living room, you felt like you were being dragged in there. You sat down on the couch while Sans scuttled into the kitchen. You stared at your knees until Sans came back carrying two steaming mugs and two saucers to set them on. As he set one in front of you, and took his seat on the other end of the couch, thunder crashed overhead. Sans jumped, slapping both hands up to cover what you supposed were his earholes. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his head tightly until the rumble finished.

“I’ll never get used to that,” he muttered, scowling at the ceiling.

“You’re afraid of thunder?” You asked quietly.

“Afraid?! Me?!” He looked at you, utterly appalled.

“I am the Notorious Sans! Nothing scares me!” he said, straightening up. “I just hate thunder,” he added.

_Right._

You picked up the mug, eyeing the steaming brown concoction for a moment before steeling yourself and taking the smallest sip. You were delighted to find that the cocoa was palatable, if a little too hot to drink. It burnt the tip of your tongue.

“Oh, this is really good. Best hot cocoa I’ve had.” _At least, today_ , you added in your head. You watched Sans smile genuinely, sockets wide and surprised, before he caught himself, blushing slightly purple.

“Of course it is! I made it!”

“It’s a little hot to drink right now, though.” You set the cup on the coffee table once again, looking around the room as Sans nodded, accepting of your statement. You swallowed thickly. Looking up to the landing where Papyrus and Sans had their bedrooms. You had never been in Papyrus’s room, but you knew where it was.

“How…” you started, haltingly, “how _is_ Papyrus.”

You looked at Sans, whose gaze had turned back up to the landing as well. He sighed. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“He’s…” He tilted his head side to side oddly, like a confused dog.

“He’s…Say, what exactly did he say about that fight? I know you saw some of it.” You blinked at Sans, before taking a moment to look sheepish.

“How did you know about that?”

Sans scoffed.

“You should never underestimate me. My powers of deduction are blade sharp.”

You frowned, clasping your hands in your lap. At least it looks like Papyrus hadn’t told Sans much about what had happened between the two of you that night. You quietly went over the details of what Papyrus had told you, making sure to sugar coat it enough as to not make Sans sound in a bad light. It was all ‘Papyrus thought’ and ‘Papyrus disagreed with’ rather than making Sans sound like you were in any way against him. You didn’t realize it much, but you had kind of grown to like Sans, in some strange way. He reminded you of spoiled child, still, he seemed good at heart. You didn’t realize that you had missed his…enthusiasm and energy in the past few days. Even if they argued over the abuses of a parent Sans didn’t remember, it wasn’t like it was either of their faults. You should know better than anyone that a child is not to blame for an adult’s abuses.

“I see…” Sans said, in a softer voice than you were used to for the younger skeleton brother.

“Okay. It looks like my brother lied to you. Or maybe? He told you some half-truths? Nonetheless, I am going to set things straight with you. I know Papyrus would likely rather tell you himself, but I am not confident he would ever get around to anything important if left to his own devices!” He crossed his arms, sending a final glare up to the landing, before facing you again. Papyrus…lied to you? Why would he lie to you about something like this? Certainly it must have been serious to have had such a loud fight with Sans. Normally, he seemed to go with whatever Sans wanted. He did things to annoy Sans, and sometimes it took a bit of prodding for him to do what Sans wanted—like jogging early in the morning—but he wouldn’t argue or fight with Sans. For him to lie about—about an abusive parent? What was the purpose of that? To get sympathy from you? No, that—that couldn’t be the reason.

“There is something you must know about my brother, before things in your relationship advance. Papyrus has these—” before he could finish the sentence, another crash of thunder came overhead, louder than the previous—closer. You heard another sound then, before Sans had the chance to cover his earholes. A loud _THUMP_ from above, and followed shortly by…

Without any warning, Sans vaulted over the couch and sprinted up the stairs, three at a time. You stood, startled, and followed on instinct, heart racing. Sans called for his brother through the closed door, and hearing no reply, he pulled out a thin dagger. As you reached the top of the stairs, he slid the dagger between the door and the frame, lifting up. He then threw open the door and darted inside.

Your thoughts were racing without lingering on a full thought at a time as you followed behind the small skeleton. You stopped in the doorway, frozen by what you saw inside. Sparks of orange, yellow and red magic danced around the room like flames, but in the epicenter of the sparks were two figures. The magic felt harmless to you, not yet formed into attacks, only their light giving off a kind of unrestricted warning.

“Oh, stop that, you ninny…” The smaller figure said, grasping firmly onto the larger. Sans’s voice was low again, beginning to shake the other’s shoulders. The other figure was shaking, muttering unintelligibly, with streams of liquid magic pouring from his sockets. Sans pounded his fist lightly against the other’s skull.

“Quit that. It’s just a nightmare, you fool. I’m here, you absolute walnut.”

“Oh, Papyrus…” Your voice came out in a whimper. You didn’t realize until that moment—didn’t consider—that Papyrus might know _exactly_ what was going on with you. He was…he was shaking, and crying and cowering, just the same as you had been two nights ago. You knew he got nervous, and probably had anxiety, but…He had to know, then, that it wasn’t your fault that you went into that state. He knew what it felt like, even if his was triggered from what appeared to be nightmares.

Sans’s head snapped back around when he heard you speak, as if only now remembering that you were there. He wrapped his arms around Papyrus’s head, shushing him as the sparks of magic started to die down.

“Get out of here!” Sans hissed.

“O-okay. I’ll go home now.”

“No, downstairs! Wait for me downstairs. Don’t you leave now.” He used a commanding tone; this was an order, not a suggestion. Non-negotiable. So you did as you were told, wavering in the doorway just a second more.

As you waited, you opened the curtains, staring out past the window bars, watching the torrent of rain come flooding down the center of the road, contained within it, branches and leaves and muck. The storm had gotten worse in just a few minutes’ time. You should really be leaving soon while the roads were still safe enough to make it a few blocks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, and here I thought this fic was gonna be about 6 chapters, oops. It's looking at least double that now.
> 
> Steamy dreamies still happen even if you're a mental mess. What details of what he told you was Papyrus lying about? What were the half-truths? Can you guess what the CRACKS title name is in reference to?


	7. Cracks Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You funky little weirdos writing these absolutely amazing lengthy comments which fill me with the DETERMINATION to finish out this chapter, I salute you for trying to murder me by filling my heart with rainbows. More commentator praise at the footnote.
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentioned suicidality (on a false assumption), Discussion of falling down/dying, mention of child abuse, A LOT of dialogue, Author making up the rules as she goes along, Published at 3am after 4 hours straight of writing.

You heard Sans coming down the final few steps so you closed the curtains with a sigh. Sans was standing straight in front of you, hands tucked behind his back, taking on an authoritative pose. A full second went by before he closed his eyes.

“That, human, is something you must know about my brother. We’ll talk further in the kitchen, enough time has passed that your cocoa should have cooled for you to drink.” He turned elegantly, but then took a quick step back to grab his cocoa with all the grace of a drunken cat, nearly splashing the drink but somehow managing not to. You supposed he looked like a military man who’d been out of the service too long.

“Something I must…You mean the panic att—”

“KITCHEN!” He ordered. You’d call him authoritative if he weren’t so small, but it came out sounding more bossy than anything. You trailed behind him as he sat down by the window of the breakfast nook, doing exactly as you had done earlier, parting the curtains to look out at the storm. Although, knowing him, it might be to check for some sort of listener outside of his house. You set your cup down and came to sit down at the other end of the table as he lifted his cup to his mouth. You heard the mug clatter as he set it down, and you saw that his hand was trembling, ever so slightly. He must have noticed, clenching his hand into a fist.

Another few moments of silence passed as Sans stared out the window and absentmindedly sipped his drink. The silence stretched on for another tense minute. You were beginning to twist the edges of your shirt as you waited for Sans to speak.

“You’re not drinking your cocoa.” Sans’s eyelights flicked away from the window, towards you, but his head didn’t move in the slightest. You quickly picked up your cup, taking a big gulp of your cocoa, which was now just above lukewarm. Still pretty good. The small skeleton sighed, turning his head away from the window and allowing the curtains to come close.

“A lot of people laughed at me when I declared, time and time again, that Papyrus would be helpless if _I_ wasn’t there to take care of him, can you believe that?!” It wasn’t really a question, but…when you looked at the interactions between Sans and Papyrus before tonight, you _would_ think that. Sans seemed too energetic, a bit naïve, childlike. You did think he was a child before, and you kept thinking of him that way until Papyrus told you otherwise. This tiny, short-tempered skeleton monster, who only stood five feet tall when he was wearing boots, had somehow been second-in-command in the Royal Army. Yet, when you interacted with him, it was hard to see him as the ruthless monster one must be to attain such a title in the underground. When you looked harder at his mannerisms, his poise and tactical abilities in something as simple as a board game, maybe, then…

“I was the younger brother, small, autistic…But none of that mattered! None of that mattered because of the state of filth my brother allowed himself to wallow in!” His voice raised at the end, making you a little nervous, but you remained still, focused on Sans as he set his chin in one hand.

“I cooked, I cleaned most of the time. I held him back when his temper got out of hand, and that was before…I joined the Royal Army to get some respect, you know? And respect I got, when criminals took for granted my size, that’s when I really shined…shone? Showed? Anyways, I even had to keep up our reputation when he started going through… _this_.” As he said the last word, he gestured upwards, towards the direction of Papyrus’s room.

“Raving about parents we never had…”

“Wait, what?”

Sans gave you a questioning look.

“At what point did I lose you? Humans must have terribly short attention spans, I have noticed.” You shook your head.

“Parents you never had? You did have parents, right?”

“No, of course not,” Sans scoffed, “it has always just been me and Papyrus.” It was your turn to throw Sans a puzzled look.

“You had to have come from somewhere, right? He’s older than you, so you probably don’t remember your parents is all. That’s what he told me, that you were still small when they died.”

Sans scratched his skull, before his face settled to an annoyed expression.

“Well, I don’t know where we came from, but we definitely didn’t have parents.” You tried to keep your face still, but you really wanted to send him an expression of utter disbelief. Even monsters had parents. Even those who had been orphaned had to have at least one parent, even Washuas, who reproduced asexually. So Sans had to be wrong, he had to have been too young to remember their father and River. Sans was just so bullheaded that he honestly believed that because he could not remember it, then an even or even people did not exist in his lifespan. That he and Papyrus had simply emerged from the ether.

“It’s not just Papyrus. This person he keeps talking about, River? Well, no one has any memory of them! There are old texts about the former Royal Scientist before the labs were shut down the first time, but those texts were hundreds of years old. Who knows what happened to them, but no one alive has any memory of them, so they must have died long before we were born.”

You blinked.

“No one?”

“Yes?” Sans tilted his head to the side. “Not the queen, not any of the rabbits in Snowdin unit, not even Alphys. So when he started talking crazy? I knew he had gone off the deep end. I knew he was…” He paused, touching his knuckle to his chin, “messed up for a long time, but he’d been able to manage it with my help. A…A lot of people are messed up.” He tapped a finger to his temple.

“But…When it got really bad and he started having these episodes???” Sans lowered his hand, eyelights darting off to the side.

“I did what I could to keep him alive,” Sans’s expression…what did he…Was Papyrus suicidal? Wait. WHAT? Were things so bad for Papyrus that he was thinking of ending his life? You sat up straighter, twisting your head around, looking out the passage into the living room, staring off as if Papyrus might be standing there. God. That was…that was awful. There was obviously some missing pieces here. Between what Sans and Papyrus were telling you, it didn’t make sense. Neither of their stories made sense, but obviously something had to have been affecting Papyrus badly enough. An abusive parent might do it. An adult abusing a child and then… _nobody believing them_?

Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat.

“Then Chara came through the underground? We were freed? I thought he would get better, and maybe he has a little but...He’s denying it, but I’m the one who takes care of him.”

“He—he’s still suicidal?” You slapped your hands on the table. He couldn’t be. Sure, maybe he was a little anxious, but—”

“What?! No! Why would you think that?” Sans seemed just as upset by the implication as you had by Papyrus’s possible ongoing suicidality. He stood to meet you eye to eye.

“My brother has never been suicidal? I never said that? You humans really don’t listen well, do you?” Sans snarled, but for some reason, in that moment, you were not intimidated. Sans stopped growling as he sat back down. He suddenly pulled his phone from his pocket. The energy from your annoyance bled from your body as bewilderment settled on your features. Sans opened his browser and began tapping away at…google images?

“Or, perhaps you do not know anything?” Sans said, spinning his phone so that you could see the screen. On it was the white, upside-down heart shape you recognized as a monster’s soul. He asked if you knew what it was. You nodded. There were still things humans were learning about monsters every day, the presence of souls, as well as the shape were now public knowledge. They were the culmination of one’s being, and could be assessed to determine one’s mental and physical state. Why did Sans show it to you, though?

“This is what a _healthy_ monster soul looks like. We monsters aren’t like humans. Our bodies can’t exist after our souls are damaged. Which means our souls are much more precious than our bodies.” Sans blinked, and more sternly, said: “Do you understand what I mean?”

You shook our head.

“Unlike humans, whose soul is more dependent on their physical state, ours are completely tied to our minds. If our minds are unhealthy, our souls begin to _crack_. With enough cracks? There’s not enough structure for the soul to hold together, and we fall down. Our soul shatters.” He set the phone down, staring at you. You were…putting the pieces together.

“My brother’s soul is _covered_ in cracks. His soul has mended itself some, but not nearly enough to even enter the realm of healthy. The fight which you were a witness to? That was me trying to knock some sense into that fool.” Sans crossed his arms.

“I know that it _does_ make him believe himself to be weak, and that was never allowed while we were underground, but…” He sighed, “Things are different here. Softer? I feel as though even someone as great and ruthless as I, the Notorious Sans, have become softer over these years?”

He took a breath. You both took a breath. The world wasn’t perfect. You had first met them, first _really_ met these brothers, after they had been attacked, so you definitely knew that. You personally knew how horrible people could treat each other, even children. Yet, compared to the claustrophobic hell that stories of the underground seemed to be…seeing the stars and smelling clean air, and throwing bread at seagulls was a small treasure.

“You have doctors up here. Ones that deal with treating the mind, too? I keep urging the incorrigible fool to see one.”

 _Oh._ Sans…He wanted Papyrus to see a therapist. Sans really cared about his brother. Papyrus knew that, right? He had to, as much as he loved Sans. You understood the reluctance to go seeking mental health treatment. You knew that it could be considered shameful and how it was greatly stigmatized. You also knew that men were more reluctant to seek help because of some sense of—what—pride?

“He’s in denial. He won’t admit that he needs treatment. He’s got imaginary parents, and wakes up terrified that I’m going to disappear, and! He! Won’t! Get help!...but that’s where you come in, human!”

“What.”

“Yes, yes,” Sans sat back waving one hand towards you, “for whatever reason, he seems rather attached to you? I don’t understand it personally, I would think he would prefer a monster datemate, but he likes you. So! I have a plan for you.” He leaned forward, a smirk returning to his face.

“If he will not take the suggestion of his brother and his once-superior officer, maybe you can get him to take this matter seriously?”

Your eyes were wide at this point. That was. That was a **lot** of responsibility. You had no control over him, really. He was his own person. This was…

“I…Sans…”

“At least try. I don’t care what you have to do, use you humanly wiles or whatever—” Sans stuck out his tongue and grimaced, as if disgusted by the thought. “I learned the hard way that they will not accept patients who do not come willingly.”

Your heart was thudding and you were beginning to get a headache. You took a deep breath.

“I’ll try,” you sighed.

“Promise?”

You nodded. Sans sat back, slamming back the last of his cocoa. He wiped his face and looked back at you. He cleared his throat.

“Finish your cocoa.”

No sooner than you started drinking your cold cocoa—more like chocolate milk at this point—you heard a cracking sound and suddenly found yourself in darkness. You squeaked, startled by the sudden change in light.

“Dammit!” You heard Sans swear. You stood, opening your eyes wide, trying to get your eyes to adjust as you felt your way up from your chair. You patted your pocket for your phone, so you could use the flashlight app, but then you remembered that you had left it in your car. You were only supposed to be dropping the coat off. Just as sudden as the blackout, a soft purple glow began to illuminate the kitchen. You looked to the source of the glow, Sans held a softly glowing bone construct in his left hand. It was barely enough to see by, about like a glowstick. Sans gestured for you to follow him out to the living room, the front door. As you crossed the threshold into the foyer, you both heard some thumps from the top of the stairs, and turning, you saw an orange glow illuminating another figure. You could barely see his face for how much he was wrapped up in a blanket, one hand sticking out, holding a bone similar to Sans’s. You couldn’t read Papyrus’s expression as the seconds passed. You just stared at each other.

Then suddenly, you heard the thunderous rain again and felt a cold breeze sneak up your legs. You looked back towards the door, Sans standing by it, holding it open.

“Okay!” He declared, loudly. “Thank you for coming to return my idiot brother’s coat after laundering it and then hanging it up in our hall closet where he will have easy access for it when he goes looking for it when he wakes up!” He was just about shouting this, even the sound of the rain shouldn’t have encouraged him to increase his volume to that level.

“Bro, I’m awake,” Papyrus croaked from the top of the stairs, his voice either heavy with sleep, or rough from exhaustion. Papyrus began to descend the stairs. You squinted in suspicion. The fact that Sans had no reaction to being called ‘bro’ unsettled you. Sometimes he didn’t catch it, but he usually did and became frustrated about the moniker.

“Yes! I see! In which case, I also thank you for your honest opinion of my new recipe!” He was still shouting.

“You may leave now!” You took two steps forward, looking out at the sideways rain. The wind was so heavy you halfway expected to see a cow fly by. If you lived in a place that got tornadoes. Or a place that had cows.

“Hey, hey, no. Ya can’t let ‘er go out in that. It’s a mad house out there. Power’s probably out at her house too.” Papyrus stepped onto the bottom landing, scowling out the door.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Sans argued.

“Yeah but…” he started, then he looked at you and lowered his voice, “if ya want, I could teleport ya home? You can call me in the morning and I’ll bring ya back ta get yer car.” His tone was hesitant, unsure.

“Oh no you don’t! Papyrus, that is a great misuse of your magic, lazy bones! You’re low right now, so stop that!” Sans said, slamming the door and marching up to his brother, pointing towards the orange construct. Papyrus sighed, letting the bone fade into non-existence. Sans nodded.

“I know! Human!” He turned to you. “You can stay the night! You’re not allowed in my room, so you’ll have to use Papyrus’s bed.” He winked at you. Oh. _No. Nonononono. Little dude, this is not going to work_ , you thought. Was he expecting you to use your ‘humanly wiles’ now?

“Um!” You felt your face heat as Papyrus’s hand came to clack over his face.

“Uh, hey, my room is really messy right now, I’m sure she wouldn’t want ta sleep in there.” Papyrus shot you a look, and if you had more light, you’d probably see him sweating bullets, telling from the expression on his face. Lord, he’d just woken up from a nightmare a little while ago. He shouldn’t have to deal with these antics. He shouldn’t have to deal with the reminder of your episode. He shouldn’t have to worry about triggering another simply by the idea of sharing a bed, and all the things that could come from a couple doing so. Truly, what happened Wednesday night was largely to do with your surprise, now that you _knew_ about his body, it shouldn’t happen again. Probably…hopefully?

“Yeah,” you agreed. Sans frowned.

“Well, then he should have thought of that before he let it get so messy! One can never be too prepared, and that includes keeping your living space clean should you have guests over!” Sans stamped his socked foot.

“But, if you will not sleep in his room—which, considering what it looks like when I’m not on him to clean it, I don’t blame you—then we will just have to camp in the living room!”

“We?” You and Papyrus asked in unison.

“Well, of course! I have seen this in movies, and if we are to make a pillow fort, then of course I should be involved to ensure the structural integrity of the fort, after all!”

You and Papyrus stared at Sans, unsure of what to say.

“You two wait here,” he said, forming three glowing bones to light the living room. He gestured to the couch, and you each took seats at opposite ends as Sans trotted off to retrieve the extra bedding. The two of you sat in the silence of the purple light for a minute, before you caught Papyrus looking at you. When he noticed your gaze, he quickly looked away. You bit your lip, scooting a bit closer to him.

“Papyrus? How are you?” His head turned back in your direction. He shrugged a little ways out of his blanket. It was so odd, seeing him in that orange sweater, without his coat.

“I’m…good. All things considered.” He huffed through his nasal cavity. You crept a little closer, intent on seeing his expression a little better in the low light. He looked over your figure, studying your face.

“And you? Are you okay? After all that?” His voice came in a whisper, like he didn’t want anyone—Sans, presumably—to hear. You scooted a little closer, reaching out your hand, unsure. You set it against his cheekbone, barely touching. He didn’t react.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that.” He shook his head, his hand coming up to press yours against his face.

“You’ve got nothing ta be sorry fer, sweetheart. I’m the jackass who didn’t even call to see if you were okay.”

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t call you either.” You sighed as his thumb came to rub against your hand.

“You knew what I was feeling though, didn’t you?” You asked. Papyrus let out a breath, his usual almost-chuckle.

“Ta some extent, but I can never get inside yer head.” You crawled up a little further beside him, expression asking if he was okay with this type of contact. You were still nervous about setting him off again. You knew you didn’t like being touched so soon after an episode, but you also missed him. Those days had gone by in a blur, but, at the same time, they were also the longest two days in recent memory, and you wanted to be near him. Responding to you question, Papyrus opened up his posture, one arm wide, inviting. You crawled up beside him and he curled into your form, his head against your shoulder. You stroked the back of his head, his scars, then up and down his back, comfortingly. You held him and stroked his back for the next few minutes. It felt good. It felt right. It felt almost like nothing bad had happened, and neither one of you had to find out the state of the other’s mental health.

“HEY!” Sans interrupted the quiet moment, his face poking around the pile of bedding before he plopped it onto the floor.

“Cuddling is fine, but don’t you two go canoodling with me only ten feet away!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE COMMENTS. Honestly, your in-depth analysis of genitalia and my characterization made my night. Like. Kicking my feet and quietly screaming because I was too excited to know what to do. You don't have any idea how happy that made me??? And you *like* my characterization??? Honestly??? Okay, well you did before now. Papyrus is barely in this one, it's basically just a quiet talk between Reader and Sans. Scheming little Sansy. Well, not really. He just wants what is best for his brother. Sorry it's so much dialogue, I typically try to balance out the chapters, but I didn't really know how to do a headcanon dump without just having Sans talk endlessly.
> 
> Also, just a side note, my own baby brother has a moderate (so, more severe than Sans) form of autism, so I'm using him as sort of reference? (Also...You probably won't see much more of Sans, as the rest of this fic will focus on Reader and Papyrus T^T)
> 
> With that, I'm off to bed at 3:15am, I can barely see the words I'm typing right now, haha, I'll look at comments later tomorrow...today..? It's already tomorrow.


	8. Believing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are too sweet and I have no clue how I'm still writing chapters less than three weeks apart because that rarely happens. I just got a job as well, so I hope to start working like...next week? Idk, I've only worked temp jobs or an internship before. Additionally, I wanted to draw a picture for this chapter, but I dun run outta energy. 
> 
> Content Warning: Mentioned child abuse

You woke up groggily that morning, splayed over the couch, wondering where you were, only to recognize the one shaking you as Papyrus. Which confused you more, until you saw the plaid sheet hanging over your head.

"Kinda surprised Sans's voice didn't wake ya up right away," Papyrus chuckled. It was at that point that you remembered that you had spent the night and were waking up in the skeleton brothers' living room.

"You were conked out hella hard."

"Mn...yeah..." You sat up straight, rubbing your face. You had lines on your face from the feel of things. Why had Papyrus even woke you up in the first place? It was before dawn on a Saturday. Then again, he was probably awoken by Sans before he made his way out for his morning jog. Still, it didn't seem fair that you had to be up this early. It wasn't like you had to go anywhere.

Oh. You realized that you had actually just slept at your boyfriend's house for the first time. You hadn’t freaked out or anything. It may have had something to do with the fact that you were sleeping on the floor of his living room with his little brother six feet away, but you were going to consider that progress anyway. He was sleeping a few feet away from you, last you remembered, curled up on a pile of pillows and blankets. You really did get your wish of making a blanket nest this weekend, just not with your own blankets. You looked up to the sheets which were clothespinned together overhead, and noticed that maybe it was after dawn? You lifted the corner of the sheet to see that it was just the kitchen light which was left in the ON position from last night. The power had come back on at some point. You looked over at Papyrus, who was messing with something on his phone and chuckling to himself.

"What are you doing?"

Papyrus smirked in reply, barely visible in the light of his phone screen.

"Wanna see?" He turned his phone towards you then, and for a second you were confused, he was just showing you his home screen, full of apps. No social media, you saw, mostly games.

"NO!" You shrieked when you saw it, trying to snatch the phone from Papyrus as he jerked it away from you. You couldn't help the grin on your face, despite being embarrassed.

"Change the picture!" You demanded.

"Why? It's cute."

"Because!" It most certainly was not cute if you had anything to say about it.

“Aw, babe, yer pretty as a picture.” You flushed at that statement, but you still wanted his phone enough to ignore the somewhat compliment. The skeleton had taken a selfie with you, sleeping quite soundly with a pillow under your head, but against where his stomach would be if he had one nonetheless. He'd fallen asleep on you a number of times, but you tried to make it a point never to falls asleep on him. Why? Well you couldn't really say why you had made that a rule, but maybe it was because you worried something like this would happen. _~~Or having something terrible done to you while you were asleep~~_. Granted, you'd had worse pictures taken, but it definitely wasn't an instagram-worthy picture. Papyrus was absolutely cheesing in the selfie, one browbone raised, and a huge grin on his face, really emphasizing those sharp canines of his.

You tucked towards him, trying to reach the phone, and grabbing his arm, trying to drag it down. Damn arms were longer than yours. You stood on your knees to get the phone, grabbing onto him for support, but he just dropped the phone behind him, onto the couch. You frowned, sitting back on your heels. When you released your hold of his chest, you realized that your hand was wrapped around two of his ribs through his sweater, and Papyrus coughed, averting his eyes. His cheekbones were softly colored in his red-orange magic.

You and him had talked a little bit about this last night while Sans was setting up, and the two of you were eating sandwiches for dinner. ' _This_ ' being the situation between the two of you. Papyrus now knew a little more than was casual about you, and you knew a little more than was casual about him. You kept your voices hushed, and the actual words used were vague, since Sans was in the next room. Now that Papyrus knew what you had been though, he was questioning himself. Were you okay with him casually touching you like he did? His inappropriate humor? Were you...Scared of him? You could say that none of that bothered you, and it really didn't, so long as it was casual.

" _If...If it gets more involved than that...Like, it involves me, then, I dunno. I would be uncomfortable to start with."_

" _Like my uh, joke from that night?_ " He had asked, to which you had thrown him a confused expression. You didn't remember him telling a joke.

" _I said, uh_ ," he had been hesitating. You swore you saw him sweating again. He had looked so nervous  in the light from his phone's flashlight. " _The joke about having a 'good time'? It's an inside joke, it ain't even supposed to be used like that, it’s more of an inside joke. One that only I know..._ " He had been embarrassed, and he went for what he always had—humor. You told him that...the joke itself wasn't the problem. It was the meaning behind the joke. Asking if you wanted to...You'd been ' _dating_ ' a little over a month at that point, you supposed that for a lot of couples nowadays that might be an appropriate time for that level of intimacy but for you...You who were so scared and so confused…

Presently, Papyrus was making a sound that would be thick swallowing on anyone else that wasn't a skeleton, and trying to change the subject, even though you could still feel the softness of his sweater on your fingertips. You had tried to tell him that nothing had changed, just because you found out about the nature of his body, but even in the small touches like this, it seemed to mean more. You had touched his chest plenty before, but now...you wanted everything to go back the way it was. Ignorance was bliss. At the same time, an intrusive thought swept through your mind. It told you to kiss him. To push him against the couch further, press your hands up under his sweater. To feel his spine, kiss his sternum, untie his drawstring and...

“Fine.” A nervous laugh came with the words as you brushed away the image of him, under you and wearing a surprised sort of smile.

“Keep the picture, just don’t send it to anyone,” you gave, before leaning back and stretching your legs.

“Wouldn’t _dream_ of it, _sleeping beauty_ ,” he said. He took a breath and nuzzled your cheek; a skeleton kiss. He crawled out of the fort as you touched your hand to your cheek. It felt…odd…Almost forced. It felt like he was trying to hard to make it seem like things were back to the way they were before. It didn’t really feel good like this. You…were glad that he knew, and that even after finding out about you, that he still wanted to be with you, but with the way things were…it didn’t feel right.

Sans had ordered him to pack up the blanket fort in exchange for not jogging, so the two of you spent a few minutes folding blankets and stuffing them into the linen closet. You didn't say anything but, things felt tense. You had not really had a lot of time to spend talking with Papyrus last night, since Sans was always around. Maybe you should have slept in Papyrus's room that night. Sure, it would have wracked you with an unreasonable amount of fear, but Papyrus had been in your bedroom plenty of times, and it hadn't freaked you out then. You were sure you could have handled it once your brain settled down and realized there was no danger. Yet, there was still the chance Sans might overhear. You needed to talk things out with him, because there were a few things you didn't understand about his story, compared to his brother's. You were missing something, and you felt like you would always be tiptoeing around the issue until you could put the puzzle back together.

Plus, you made that promise to Sans.

* * *

A few days before Halloween, you decided to ask Papyrus to help you put up decorations. You had all your decorations up already, but you needed an excuse to get Papyrus alone. Really alone. A public location like the Marina or a restaurant or a haunted house wouldn't do it, due to the nature of the subject which you wanted to discuss. His house was out, because you didn't want Sans overhearing.

When he showed up, he wasn't all that surprised when you pulled him inside and sat him down on the couch. You didn't quite know how to start, but you knew some of what you wanted to know. With no preamble, you began.

"I've been thinking about something lately."

Papyrus let out a long sigh, as if he already knew where this conversation was going.

"I've noticed. I guess I have been too. Shoot," he said, leaning over the arm of the futon, chin propped on his hand.

"Well, it's just...Sans told me...what he knew about your parents. I've been thinking about what he said, and then comparing it to what you told me...and, it doesn't seem like either of you are lying, per say, but--"

"Doesn't make a lot of _Sans_ , does it?" He said, chuckling.

"Yeah. I don't really...understand what's going on, there?" Papyrus looked off to the side, as if he caught sight of a spider on your wall, before he turned his gaze back to you.

"It don't make sense, because Sans ain't lying, and neither am I."

Your brows knit in confusion.

"Be real with me, okay?"

"I'm real as can be. As far as Sans knows--he is telling the truth. It's just the truth as he knows it. The truth as everyone else knows."

"Okay. HUH?"

Papyrus rolled his eyes, and you swore you heard him growl, as if he were beginning to get a bit defensive. As if he had tried telling this story many times over. It wasn’t often that Papyrus seemed annoyed. He was normally a very chill dude. You remembered when he had told you about his parents, he hadn’t seemed upset, even though he clearly was upset by something that had happened to him. If he was having nightmares like the one you had seen.

“Look, ya gotta just go with me on this one," he said, pushing off of his knuckles and sitting back against the couch. You waited all of five seconds for him to say something else. When he just folded his arms, you sighed, trying not to mirror his annoyance in that moment.

"Trust you on what? Papyrus, I'm completely lost here, could you please just...give me a little more information?" When you finished your question, you noticed that Papyrus's leg was bouncing, ever-so-slightly. The expression he wore was...Nervousness? Wait a minute. Was...Was he okay? What if the annoyance he was showing was...You couldn't, and shouldn't force him to talk about something like this. It clearly upset him, as talking about your past upset you. You weren't the only person with such deep-rooted fears.

"I...I trust you, Papyrus..." You set your hand on his bouncing knee. He looked back towards you again, nervous, unsure. You scooted closer to him, sitting so that you were shoulder to shoulder. Maybe you were trying too hard, as well. Or maybe you just liked the warmth of his body against yours.

"You don't have to talk about it, but if you do, I know what it's like to not be believed, so, whatever you say, I would trust that." You bit your lip. You weren't sure if that had come out right. You...You didn't want to make this about you. Yet, you couldn't help but compare what Papyrus was going through to what you went through. What you were still going through. The last thing you wanted to do was to take this moment away from Papyrus. At the same time, you wanted him to know that to some extent, you understood. You had a pretty deep understanding of what the emotions were like, even if you could never fully understand the situation.

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, "I...I know ya..." he sucked in a breath.

"Y'ain't gonna believe it."

Yet, you did.

There were a lot of things about Monsterkind which you didn't understand. Things which you couldn't fathom, things that required probably a lot more college to understand, and things which, on a conceptual level didn't make sense to you. In the grand scheme of things? What Papyrus told you wasn't that hard to believe. You could believe something without understanding it. You didn't understand why the men who had hurt you had done so. Yet it had happened.

He told you what you needed to know of the situation. When they were kids, Sans and Papyrus had two parents. One was halfway decent, if a little scatterbrained. Gaster. The other had tried to smother Sans when he cried a little too loudly one night, while they had a headache. Papyrus stepped in to save his infant brother, and that's when the abuse started. River took Gaster for an experiment, injecting him with Determination, which left his body and mind in a permanent state of decay. They threw him out like a lab rat when they were done with him. When Papyrus was in his teens, River convinced a naiive Sans to come with them to the lab, they needed a young subject, they said. Papyrus wouldn't stand for that, and destroyed the test area, telling Sans to run. The resulting reaction erased River from the memories of everyone Papyrus knew. Except Papyrus, ducking into one of the lab’s machines. He had no evidence to back his claims. No one believed him, not even Sans.

Papyrus made himself a target by being the town lunatic, but Sans— _bless his soul_ —stuck by Papyrus even closer after that. It was just him and Sans. The skeleton brothers. They made a reputation for themselves on the other side of the underground. They had each other's backs and fought together, bringing an end to whoever challenged them. Sans moved up in ranks to create a reputation separate from his brother's, but people still remembered them as the tiny soldier and his _mad dog_ of a brother.

Then, one day. The human child came through town, and Papyrus started having these bizarre, vivid nightmares. Papyrus would only explain vaguely about the nightmares, but you didn’t blame him. He would wake up, thinking he was still in the dream and that the events were still taking place. It was only a dream, but he swore, every single time, that in the moment, it didn't feel like a dream. They weren’t all connected to their parents, but Sans assumed they were, and Papyrus would never tell him otherwise.

"Is that why..." You paused. Sans had told you about the cracks in Papyrus's soul, but you didn't know if you should mention it. You knew Sans wanted Papyrus to see a professional about this stuff, but...

"Why, what?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. You decided to go for broke. You leaned up and away from Papyrus, looking at him again. While he seemed to enjoy stroking your hair--it seemed to put him at ease as much as it did you, you wanted to see his face, to gauge his reaction.

"Your brother told me something else..."

"Uh...Yeah?"

"Can I...Can I see your soul?"

Papyrus's eyes widened with your question, and his mouth opened, as if to speak, but he shut it again. His hand came up slowly, over his ribcage, resting there. His hand pulled at his sweater a bit. He made some sounds, but they didn’t really seem like words. Had you asked the wrong type of question? You noticed that his face was beginning to color.

“Oh, I was, uh, just curious. You don’t—”

“No…it’s uh…just normally something monsters don’t show off ta people,” he cleared his throat, “it’s nothing, really. Just, uh. Exposing yer soul for any reason in the underground was a good way ta get dusted…We’re taught not to expose our souls from the time we’re little kids.”

“Oh…I um…I’m sorry.” You didn’t know. You knew that doctors would look at a person’s soul to check their health more accurately, you didn’t think about it. You supposed that yeah, with a soul being basically a monster’s everything, with only dust left behind, exposing it would be a death sentence back in the underground.

“I’d only show it to someone I had absolute trust in,” he said.

“Like Sans?” Sans had obviously seen Papyrus’s soul, since he had seen the cracks for himself. He was no doubt Papyrus’s most trusted person. They were brothers, thick as thieves despite their petty squabbles and the occasional fight.

“Yeah, Sans…” His sockets squinted, as if he had just figured something out, and he clutched the front of his shirt a little tighter. When Papyrus lifted his hand from his chest, with it came a softly glowing shape the size of your palm. He lowered his hand, and floating, just an inch above his own palm, was the inverted heart you recognized as his soul. Its surface was shimmering, like pearl, but as you looked closer you saw that this was just an optical illusion, because, covering its entire surface were tiny cracks spidering out from the pointed tip, just as Sans had said. It was like when a translucent superball cracks just…more ethereal looking? It was hard to explain. He held out his palm to you, and your hands creeped up, unsure, until Papyrus twisted one of your hands over, letting the soul float just above your own hand.

“I trust you, too, ya know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee~y. Check the new tags. She's got his soul in her hands. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> In order to write this fic I've been using a simple little game called "Fighter's Block" in 500 word chunks which basically just helps me get to a word count, which for me sitting down and actually writing is the hardest part of writing. If I can get to the word count I can usually make some semblance of a chapter out of that.
> 
> ALSO SUPER IMPORTANT:  
> WHAT COLOR SHOULD READER'S SOUL BE? I was thinking purple for perseverance. Or green for kindness? I sort of have this idea that adult souls are usually a mix of colors, while children often have purer traits.


	9. Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is thirsty and distractable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel weird about apologizing for updating too frequently, but really, don't get used to it, I'm just on a roll. I'll reply to comments after I sleep!
> 
> Content warnings: SMUT, Soul sex, Oral sex but it's just a soul, Manual sex but it's just a soul.

“I trust you, too, ya know?”

You couldn't help but stare at him for a second afterwards, before your gaze fell, slowly, to the soul you held, second hand coming to support the first. You didn't want to drop it. Well, held wasn't quite the right word. It floated above your hand, but you could still feel the buzz of magic from it, like static electricity. It felt similar to what Papyrus's tongue felt like, but stronger, since it wasn't actually in contact with your skin.

"I..." you chuckled, almost nervous then. You were literally holding his life in your hands. It was the culmination of his entire being. It made you feel a little nauseous as you were suddenly very worried about accidentally harming the little heart.

"I only wanted to look at it."

"Ya won't hurt it, if that's not yer intention. I told ya before, didn't I? With monsters, intent is everything."

You swallowed thickly. You supposed if you did accidentally drop it, then it would probably do the same with the floor as it was doing with your cupped hands, floating just above, protected by the hum of energy you felt. You brought it up to closer to your face to look at it. You didn't quite understand how doctors could get a read off of a soul to tell how a person's health was, but you didn't suppose that they did it by eye. You could see all the tiny fractures in the surface of it, but they told you nothing more than the fact that it's owner was...not in good shape. It seemed so odd to you. Papyrus seemed like such a calm person. If he hadn't mentioned anything about his parents, and you hadn't seen him waking from a nightmare, then you never would have guessed there was anything wrong with him. Besides nervousness, but that seemed par for the course when you spent your life watching your back like you supposed he had. Then again...The underground was not a nice place. It was stupid of you to think he hadn't—that any monsters had not been affected by their life before they emerged onto the surface. Looking at his soul, however, you couldn't help but...He was the monster you really cared about right now.

"Is...Is it really okay for me to be holding it like this?" You looked up from the soul. Papyrus's face was soft, sockets half-closed, content.

"Uh? Yeah, it's fine. It's not as bad as it looks." You hadn't realized you'd been smiling until that moment, when your smile drooped and you frowned.

"It looks pretty bad..."

Papyrus huffed.

"No, it's fine. Do I seem that breakable to you? That's me yer holdin' after all." He leaned forward again, and you thought he was going to take his soul back—that you had pushed the issue a little too far, but he stopped short. He ran one phalange along one lobe of the soul, looking back at you.

"See?" he said. "You can even touch it, and it's fine."

You didn't think he would mislead you, and so, you cupped your hand around the soul, finding that the static electricity-like field around it wasn't as solid as you first thought. You gently pressed your index finger to the surface of the soul. It was soft, and unlike you might expect, it produced no heat of its own. It felt like...a bowl of room-temperature jello if you were being honest. Like when you stick your hand in a lukewarm bath, and you can't tell where the air stops and the water begins except for the tiniest bit of resistance from the water's density. It felt like that, but more solid. Seeing that the soul did not immediately shatter on contact, you traced your finger down along the soul. You felt over some of the cracks, yet, you could not feel the cracks themselves. It felt like the surface of the soul was all one solid mass. It was, you supposed. Yet, even though you could not feel the cracks, you still had this thought in your head that you wanted to smooth out the surface, smooth out the little fractures. Like you were a little kid, playing with clay, and just rubbing your finger over the splits in the clay would smooth them back out. You wanted to do that here. You knew that was silly. This was a person, not some play-doh or clay. It was not that simple. You wanted to smooth the cracks, still, for Papyrus. You wished you could heal them.

"I can feel that, y'know," Papyrus said, a smirk growing on his face.

"Oh! Sorry!" You yanked your finger away. Of course, it was his entire being, it made sense that he could feel his soul being touched.

"It didn't hurt, did it?"

"That's, uh, not what I mean. Yer intent, to make me feel better. I can feel that."

"You can...feel my intent?"

"Yeah, ya can probably make me burst into tears right this moment if really wanted to, ya just need think about an old dog ya had dyin' or somethin'." He laughed then, crossing his ankle over his knee and relaxing back. So, by 'intent' did that mean, he could _feel_ your _emotions_? Or at least what emotions you had directed towards him. If you wanted to hurt him, you could via the intent to, and if you wanted to make him feel better, you just had to want it? With that, you watched him as you touched the soul again, dragging your finger against the surface, and thinking of things that made you happy, trying to force your intent onto the soul to make him feel good.

"That's nice..." He said. You smiled, taking your eyes off him to look back at the soul. It was white, but you noticed that your hands were reflecting a sort of orangey light. The glow off the soul was a different color from the soul itself. It was so odd.

"Are all monster souls white?"

He opened his eyes, and you wondered if he was really trying to fall asleep while his soul was outside of his body and in another person's possession.

"Pretty sure."

"What color is my soul?" You asked. You felt stupid the moment you asked. Human souls, you knew, came in a wide range of colors and color combinations. Since you had learned of this fact, you had always wanted to see what color yours was. Humans couldn't pull their own souls out though. At least, most humans. Some humans possessed enough magic in their beings to do it, but you were definitely not one of them. You had a monster sitting right here, though. One who had just pulled out his own soul for you. It was finally your chance to see it! You wondered what it looked like, compared to a monster's soul.

"Can you pull it out? I want to see what color it is."

You were surprised when Papyrus's sockets popped open wide and he sat up perfectly straight. You became unnerved when you saw that his face was quickly becoming enveloped in his magic's color with a bright blush.

"Uh, hhhhh, that's. L-let's get mine put away, first." What was going on with him?

"Why? I was sorta hoping to see what they both looked like." His face was even darker as you said that. Did it...take a lot of magic to pull a human's soul out, and that's why he needed his within his own body again? That still didn't explain his reaction.

"Sweetheart." He said the one word, then blinked, as if unable to finish the sentence.

"Is it bad to have a monster and human soul out at the same time? Sorry, I didn't know."

"Yeah, let's go with that..." He said before coughing nervously.

"Fuck, no. I-I gotta be honest with ya." He looked at his soul in your hands, then back at your face.

"Ya just caught me off guard, okay." He swallowed thickly. A big forced grin came to his face, he looked like he'd just showed up at middle school in his underwear.

"There's only **one** reason two monsters have their souls out at the same time, and I suppose that'd work for a monster and a human too."

You blinked. Papyrus frowned. He took in a deep breath.

"Uh...Monster kids? They're, uh, made by touching two souls together, uh, only if that’s the intent otherwise it’s just—just, ya know..." A second passed. Then _your_ face was flushing with color. Papyrus looked panicked in that moment, he must have recognized that you'd finally caught his meaning. You had to cast your gaze away from Papyrus then, too embarrassed to look anywhere near him. It was then that you realized that you felt the soft buzz of his soul's energy in your hands. Which were cupped around it and held in your lap. Your entire body stiffened as you realized this. You were absolutely mortified that you had been—wait, no, that definitely wasn't right. His soul was **not** a sex organ. Not. It was the entire culmination of one's being, pure and simple. Well, maybe not simple, but it definitely wasn't a sex thing. Sans had seen Papyrus's soul, after all, and you didn't think the brothers were quite **_that_** dysfunctional. Family members checked on each other's souls to see the status of each other's health, so it wasn't like you'd reached your hand down Papyrus's pants or anything. So, monster babies were made by touching souls together. It sort of made sense. If babies were made with half of each parent, and a lot of monsters didn't exactly have animal biology at play, then it made sense that the souls had to be used to create new life.

Sure, it was embarrassing to find that out now, after you had suggested to your boyfriend something he associated with making mini-monsters, but...Huh. It didn't...it didn't scare you?

You weren't going to go that deep into the psychology of it right now but...you weren't freaking out? You didn't...didn't have your soul out—Papyrus had stopped you before you went through with that. Yet...something...something dawned on you. You had always been freaked out by the idea of hands on your skin. Touching you in a pursuit of gratification. It sickened you. Yet, Papyrus played with your hair and rubbed your back, kissed you, and none of that bothered you. It was because none of those were inherently sexual. Well, maybe the kissing was more than would ever be allowed on daytime television, but it didn't mean that you wanted to have sex. The main thoughts you had regarding that in real life were pain and helplessness. Of being held down. You still craved the pleasurable feelings that came from the consensual act, though. It was a form of intimacy that you wanted, that you knew was supposed to feel good. But you didn't want to be touched.

Papyrus though...You wanted to touch him. You wanted to make him feel good. You knew he didn't have the reservations you did. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, see what sort of expression he made, know that you had made him feel good. You wanted to kiss and taste him, yet, you still couldn't let him touch you. Your soul, though. Your soul was you. Yet, it also wasn't. No one had ever touched your soul before. No one had the chance to hurt your soul, to violate it. You thought about what Papyrus had said about intent. Intent was everything. If two monsters wanted a baby, they touched souls with the intent to create new life? That's what you deduced from the statement.

"Oh," you said finally, "that's good information to have, I guess."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Papyrus visibly relax. You uncovered his soul again, looking down at it. There was a question in your mind, and you bit your tongue, trying to build up the nerve to ask it.

"When monsters do that...does it feel good?" There was a pause. You didn't know what to do now that neither of you were speaking. You could even feel a cold sweat starting to work up on the back of your neck, now, and that was normally _his_ thing.

"Yes?" His voice came after a few more seconds, sounding strained and unsure.

"I've...I've never exactly, y'know, tried that. Not with anyone but, uh." You looked up from your lap then, sudden confusion snapping you out of your odd state. You looked at Papyrus, who still wore that same blush you'd last seen on him. He must have read your confusion on your face because he quickly amended his statement.

"Oh, yeah, heh. The other way? I've uh, I've done that plenty of times but, uh, heheh...babe, yer makin' me really fuckin' nervous there," he said, pointing to your hands. You blushed, lifting your hands away from his soul, so that they were no longer in contact with its surface. Your own nerves must have been rubbing into his soul.

"But...if someone, a partner, wanted you to feel good, they'd just have to touch your soul, with their intent behind it? Can make each other feel good without even touching each other." Your tone was inquisitive, but you bit your lip. Papyrus stared at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Yeah."

"Can..."

"Are you sure you want to do that, sweetheart?" he asked, interrupting your thought. His voice was low, nearly a whisper. You wondered about that. You were still scared about...You didn't know what having your soul touched would even feel like, even in a safe, platonic way. What if it still brought up bad thoughts, bad memories?

But...You had his soul in your hands.

"Can I just...for now, can I just touch your soul?"

Papyrus took in a deep breath.

"Yeah, uh, I ain't gonna tell ya that ya can't now that ya got it." He gestured to your hands. His expression and posture became more relaxed, more at ease, more like the Papyrus you remembered before that botched movie night. He was nervous all the time, but he'd been more on edge since then. You smiled as you looked back down at his soul. You brought it up a little closer and laid the tips of your fingers around the shape, focusing your thoughts on how you wanted to make your boyfriend feel good. You heard Papyrus suck in a breath beside you.

You lifted your head, wrapping your thumb around the other side of the soul. Papyrus was looking at you with those half-opened eyes and you couldn't help but blush. You rubbed your thumb in little circles over the surface of his soul, and his eye sockets fell closed as he huffed through his nasal cavity. Your thumb rubbed a little firmer into the surface of the soul, and in that moment, you got your first little rewarding sound from Papyrus. It was a soft whimper that you wouldn't have even noticed had you not been watching him so intently. You felt a pleasant shiver run down your spine as you watched him. He kept his eyes closed as you continued rubbing those circled and squeezing your fingers against the smooth surface of the little heart. It looked so broken, and so fragile, but it was holding up to your touch. You pressed your thumbs more firmly into it as you rubbed against it. You noticed, then, that your hand felt somewhat cool, and when you looked back down, you realized that you had something reddish colored coating your fingertips.

"Oh. It's wet." You flushed brightly. You weren't at all put off by that, you just, well, you definitely hadn't expected it. Yet, your body suddenly felt warm. You kind of...

"S-sorry. Forgot to mention th-that." He cracked one eye open to look at you when you pulled one hand away. His browbones were knit as he opened his other eye.

"I'm not stopping," you said, to silence any fears he might have of being left hot and bothered. You were...just a little curious. You had always felt confused about the sorts of things you craved to do with a partner, but this was so different. Different, but not. You lifted your hand, and the texture of the liquid was definitely familiar to you. Except for the color, it reminded you a lot of the leftovers from your solo sessions.

You watched the magic forming a thin, sticky bridge as you spread your fingers. Without giving it much thought, you brought your hand up to your mouth, giving the fluid a try. It didn't really have a taste. You licked your fingertips clean at that point, since as hot as it was, it was also a little gross.

"Fu~uck," you heard Papyrus moan. He tipped his head back, sinking further down onto your futon. You smirked. He liked watching you do that. You wondered.

"Hey, babe," you started in a sweet voice, using a pet name he rarely heard from you, "can I..?" You brought the soul to your mouth, locking eyes with Papyrus.

"Fuck yeah, yeah, please."

You pressed a gentle kiss to the surface of the soul, then licking your lips. Papyrus closed his eyes again, and his breath had become heavy. You drug your tongue over the surface of his soul, then pressed firmly into the center of the two lobes at the bottom. Papyrus let out a strained sound, something like a whimper. His expression was pinched, his mouth opened, and you could see how heavy his breath was by just watching his chest. For a guy who didn't have lungs, he sure made some interesting sounds.

As you opened your mouth wider to drag your tongue back up the soul, you realized that some of those sounds were from you. You didn't know what to do with this information, but god, did your body feel hot. Your breathing was heavy, and as much as you wanted to see his face, you had to focus on making him feel good, not how embarrassed you were. You closed your eyes and concentrated on leaving little kisses along his soul and massaging your fingers across the slick surface of it. You opened your eyes when he grunted loudly, unabashedly. His left hand was thrown over the back of the couch, gripping the fabric, and his right was clutched in his sweater tightly as he leaned over to the side. He was saying something, very quietly, that you almost couldn't hear.

You gripped his knee with the hand you had licked off and leaned over to be closer to him. What he was whispering were just strings of swearing and then, you heard your name once or twice. That was when the reality of the situation really sunk in. You were pleasuring Papyrus. You were, right now, in complete control over what he was feeling, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. You literally had his everything in your hands right now, and he was open, willing, and begging. He had left himself in the most vulnerable state imaginable for a monster, with his soul outside of his body. He trusted you enough to do this with him. That's right. You were the first person he trusted enough to do this with. He was...sort of...in a way, losing his virginity to you. At least for doing soul stuff with a partner. He was trusting you, and he was loving it.

More than that, you were enjoying yourself. You were enjoying making him feel this way. You weren't at all scared, because you were in control of the situation. If you got scared and wanted to stop—not that he ever would hurt you—you had his life in your hands. He couldn't do anything. While that made you feel powerful, it also made you a little nervous. You weren't sure that you deserved this kind of trust from him. You were horrible, remember?

Fuck it, you decided. You would worry about that later. Right now, you wanted to put all of your effort into making the trembling skeleton feel good. You were doing a decent job of it so far.

You continued your stroking of his soul with your tongue and fingertips, and more of that raw liquid magic flowed from the shape. It still didn't taste like anything, though the texture was odd on your tongue. Papyrus's legs were squirming now, as low groans came more frequently. You had let go of his leg by that point, bringing your other hand up to aid you in your goal of working him up. You were uncaring of the fluid which dripped down your forearm.

"Sh-shit. Please, please, please," Papyrus begged at one point, and you smirked. He sounded like he was close. You pressed your tongue firmly against the bottom again, where the two lobes joined and you heard Papyrus's voice give you a drawn out groan, strained and broken. You felt the flow of liquid increase for a moment, before all you heard was Papyrus's loud panting as he came down. You weren't stupid. You could guess from context clues what that was all about.

You kissed the soul twice more, then lifted your lips from the soul turning to wipe your mouth on your arm. There was so much fluid, you needed to wash off, but first...

"You okay?" You asked Papyrus.

"Mn..." He replied, eyes closed.

"Want your soul back?"

"Mn. Yeah." Without opening his eyes, he lifted his hand up. You wiped as much fluid as you could from the surface of his soul before gently placing it in his hand.

"Be right back," you told Papyrus, who only replied in another non-word. You smiled, looking down at him for a moment. He was flopped over the futon couch like a rag doll, eyes closed, lazy smile, breath becoming more even—sated. You felt a great wave of euphoria wash over you. You’d done that to him, and it felt great. You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Thank you," you whispered. You didn't wash your hands thoroughly, just rinsing the magic from your palms and forearms. You dried off and walked back to Papyrus, who was laying in the same position you left him, slumped over the couch. Only, by now he had opened his eyes.

"Hey?" He asked as you came into view. "Are you okay?" You cocked your head to the side.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You asked in reply. He finally moved, pushing himself upright away from the arm of the couch. He looked up at you, then lifted his hand to yours, tugging gently. You did ask he wanted, sitting beside him.

"I dunno. Just. We uh, we kinda had...well...Yer definitely okay?" You caught his meaning and...yeah. You were okay. This sort of thing was...so different from what you thought of in terms of human relations that, for some reason, it didn't scare you. It felt nice to make him feel good like that.

"You weren't worried about that the whole time, were you?"

"Nah, not really." You leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Good. You liked it, right?"

"Stupid question. Got anymore you have ta throw at me?" He chuckled, nuzzling his face against the top of your head. You might have a few questions.

"Where's the name 'Slim' come from?" Papyrus started laughing, loudly, tiredly. It was a little loud in your ears.

"Fuck. Okay. I went to middle school with Undyne. We both wore skinny jeans all the time. Looked a lot better on her than me—y'know, a skeleton without any meat. Everyone laughed because the jeans were supposed to be 'slimming'. Never did live it down. Got any more? I'm in a very good mood."

You chewed your lip as another question came into mind.

"If...If I start seeing a therapist for, you know, working through my trauma...would...would you try to do the same?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny how this is dated a few days before Halloween and...here it is a few days before Halloween....how did I manage that. Also, I finally got the approval from my therapist that this is an A-OK outlet for me, so yay traumatized characters folks can project onto (was already doing this with my Chara comiv series buuut)
> 
> Also, this is my very first time writing soul sex? I originally wanted reader to give Papyrus a standard lolipop lick, since that's 100% my kink, but I'll save that for later if I decide to do it at all. 
> 
> Sorry about the cliffhanger!


	10. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus and Reader's relationship is past that honeymoon phase, now. Papyrus isn't all he's cracked up to be. He's scary. He's angry. His emotions are NOT in check.

Papyrus was an asshole. Took you a while to figure that out, but here you were.

Sure, you anticipated him saying no to your suggestion, but he didn't give you a no. He gave you some wishy-washy "I'll think it over" and over time that just pissed you off. You tried to let it go, and for a while, that had worked. You could tell your relationship with him had been sort of strained with him after you suggested it, and you also felt a little bit guilty about what you had done. It hadn’t been your attention to suggest it right after you’d—well whatever that thing you did with his soul was called—but it just sorta came out. He said he was open to questions then…you weren’t even sure how that night had gone after that.

Just when you thought your relationship was slipping further, your cell phone went off at work, having forgotten to shut the ringer off before. Your boss didn’t really care if one of the employees got calls during work, so long as they still got work done. He had kids who got sick from time to time, he understood. While he didn’t care, one of the clients heard it. The man got up and staggered to your desk, fuming, he hadn’t been loud about it, but he told you in no uncertain words how sick he was of ‘kids’ poor work ethic, lack of workplace etiquette, always on their phones. This frustrated you, but before you had the chance to make yourself a perfect ‘impolite’ millennial/gen Z ‘kid’ he was talking about, your coworker called him back, since he wasn’t allowed back there without an escort to begin with. Talk about poor etiquette. You scrunched down in your chair and thought about what you would have said to the man had you got the chance but…it would have made things worse if you had done that, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t much, but it just set your anxiety off and you just became a fidgety mess the rest of the day. You shut your phone completely off after that.

When work ended, you went straight to bed. Not that you slept. It was shortly after that that you heard a knock on your door. You covered your head with the blankets. Whoever they were, they could go away. When the knocking continued you grumbled a bit and rolled over, digging deeper into your shame cave, covering your ears. You sighed when a few seconds finally went by without knocking.

“I was in the neighborhood, so—”

You _shrieked_. The sudden voice was coming from _inside_ your house. You jumped out of your bed, flopping onto your floor, helplessly tangled in your blankets. You froze upon struggling to release yourself from the mess and realizing that whoever was in your house had plain view of you struggling—it was just a studio—and you were already doomed. Then you felt hands on your blankets and you were certain that this was going to be where you died.

"Hang on, lemme help ya with that."

It was just Papyrus. You held still and waited for him to yank the covers off of your head and torso.

"Guess ya really are a klutz, ain't--"

"YOU ASSHOLE!" You shouted, smacking Papyrus with your pillow. He Sat back away from you, an offended look on his face.

"What the hell did I do?!"

"You broke into my house!"

"No I fuckin' didn't. Nothin's broken!"

You let out a loud sigh.

"You can't just barge in uninvited! I thought you were a burgler or something! What if I had been naked."

Papyrus blinked, then looked off to the side, considering.

"Well, that'd be--" he paused, catching himself and abruptly changing the subject.

"You didn't answer my texts, so I even called  you. Ya always answer my calls cuz y'know, they make me nervous 'n shit. I got worried, that's all."

You sat back against your bed, head hitting the mattress. You let out another sigh.

"Did it occur to you that maybe I have a headache and wanted some uninterrupted sleep?" You glanced down, seeing Papyrus flush that orangey-red color. And rightfully so. He had the decency to look sheepish after that. He looked down, fiddling with his zipper, as he so often did. You closed your eyes. You could just tell him the truth about your shitty day, but you'd get to that later, after you were done basking in the remorse Papyrus was probably feeling.

Wait.

That's not right. Why are you wanting Papyrus to feel bad? You liked this guy.

"Nah, I didn't consider that, but ya can't blame me fer bein' worried when my girlfriend breaks her normal habits, right?" He had a sort of growl to his voice, like he was a little frustrated at being accused of something without good cause. Like you had been earlier that day.

"I can blame you for coming into my house without my consent though."

Ouch. Why were you like this with him right now? You realized that while Papyrus had just scared the life out of you, you were still being a bit more persnickety than he deserved. It was likely because you hadn't been able to chew out that guy at work today. You felt both angry at him for coming up to you like that, unfairly grouping you with people he found unsavory, and also nervous because you actually put effort into not messing up at work. Usually your anxiety was enough to keep you in check, and the fact it had failed.

You looked down again, realizing Papyrus was being unusually quiet right now, aside from that 'zzp, zzp,' sound. He was just playing with his zipper, his browbones knit and his face brightly colored. You curled up a bit, reaching out to stop Papyrus's hand from fiddling with the zipper.

"I had a really shitty day at work...I'm taking it out on you."

The words were innocuous as could be, but you saw Papyrus's expression change for a millisecond into...something, before it relaxed. You squinted in confusion. What was that face?

“Is something wrong?” You asked. Papyrus blinked.

Papyrus settled into his casual smile. He shrugged, then pulled himself up to sit on the edge of your bed.

"Nah. What happened at work?" he said, patting the bed next to him. You swallowed thickly, looking from the mattress to Papyrus. He was on your bed. Your. Bed. Okay, it was...it was fine. It was just the closest horizontal surface to sit on. You refused to let your concern show on your face as you sat on your bed beside him, hunched over like a goblin.

"Some bastard," you began. Papyrus scooted closer as you began your little bit of a rant. You didn't even know how long you went on before you found yourself laying back over his lumpy-as-hell lap gesturing wildly with your hands. He looked down at you every so often, but it looked like he had something else on his mind. It didn’t matter, you sort of just wanted to vent right now, you didn’t care how much of it he caught. He laughed at one point, pausing you.

"Y'know, if ya want, I could just beat 'im up for ya."

You rolled your eyes.

"Very funny."

He smirked, looking down at you with a playful gleam in his...eyesocket? He had the tiniest pricks of light in his eyesockets normally, and they looked...different.

"Ya think I'm jokin'?" He asked, in that little low whisper he did. His smirk became a little wider. His face looked...you didn't know how to describe it. It made you nervous at the same time his voice sent a jolt of heat down your spine.

"Because I will. Some asshat goes stomping down on some poor worker like that about manners needs to learn some of his own."

"You're not serious." His smirk vanished, but he still had that glint in his eye, that you realized wasn't entirely playful now. You figured out that the barely-there lights in his eyes were brighter and bigger than normal, almost comparable to his brother's now.

"Been a while since I let off some steam, like that y'know? I..." he trailed off. What in god's name was he talking about?

"You said it yourself once. Monsters always get the short end of the stick in criminal cases."

"He doesn't have to know who I am. Won't see me coming." His grip on your shoulder tightened. Did he even realize he was moving closer to you as he spoke? You were beginning to feel trapped again. Not now. Not now.

"Papyrus, you're not being serious." You bit your tongue. You tried to sit up, but his hand on your shoulder held you in place for a second before he released it. The relief didn't last long, as Papyrus wrapped you up in a hug, pulling your face against his  shoulder. He sighed, and you could tell his mood had shifted again.

"Sorry about that. I dunno why I said that. Guess I haven't been out of the royal army long enough. I didn't, uh...scare ya or anything, right?" He kissed the side of your neck in apology.

"I...kind of? Papyrus, I..."

"I wouldn't have acted on it. I was just playin'. Sometimes I get carried away. I was just pissed at the guy. Most I'd ever do nowadays is flip him off." You really, truly hoped that was the case.

“Papyrus…could you let go of me?” You asked, pushing a little at his sternum. He dropped his arms to the side, and you pulled away, facing away from him. There was an uncomfortable silence as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. You lifted your head when you felt those familiar phalanges against your cheek, coming to brush your hair behind your ear. You turned towards him.

“We’re…a lot alike, y’know.” He paused, looking as if he were trying to speak carefully. “we deal with shit differently but uh...” He rubbed his hand down his face, almost growling.

“If what’s keeping ya from going ta therapy is, I don’t know, fuckin’ moral support? Ya got me. I ain’t never had a real great conversation with humans, or, hell, monsters. I’m sure my brother told ya everyone thought I was batshit crazy from back then…I ain’t got a great track record for havin’ folks believe the stuff that comes outta my mouth. You did, and yer among just the three who could, and definitely the only human…But uh…It ain’t like you need my permission to go, and if yer scared, I’ll go with ya—”

“Papyrus, that’s not—” you started to interrupt.

“—and if it helps ya, then, I’ll try it myself. Ya gotta understand that I’ve seen a lot of shit. Really bizarre shit, and I don’t wanna be dubbed the mad dog of this town either.” He huffed.

“Most humans are a lot less accepting of the truth than you, sweetheart. Most of ‘em I’ve met are nasty as hell, ya’d tell ‘em the sky was blue and they’d sit there and say it ain’t just cuz so few of us got ta see the sky before we were released.”

You must have made some kind of face because he scoffed, finishing, “why’m I telling ya somethin’ you already know…” He reached forward and began to pet your hair gently. You leaned into the touch. It felt so nice. You curled up beside him again like some sort of bipolar cat as he stroked your back. You thought on the offer. It was a start. If he went with you to your appointments, he might see it was nothing to worry about. Every therapist you had met had been pretty nice, you didn’t think one might treat Papyrus unfairly just because he was a monster. Papyrus was just worried for no reason. Not that you could blame him. The fear of dismissal and disbelief had kept you quiet for years.

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled.

“Fer what?”

“For the way the world’s treated you.” He chuckled. He kissed you behind the ear.

“Yer so cute.” You smiled. You really wanted Papyrus to trust the world a little more. You knew that the world was still a dangerous place for him, but the fear and distrust he must live with…You wished you could just poof all of that away, even for just a little bit.

“Papyrus?” You mumbled into his neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I touch your soul?” You wanted to show him a little of the affection you had for him. It was only the third time you’d asked him for this privilege, but he barely even hesitated before showing it to you, in all it’s shattered—glittering glory.

* * *

November had ended, and you had only barely managed to get your primary to get you a referral for an intake assessment. As promised, Papyrus came with you to the appointment, although sitting back in your car wasn’t exactly what you thought he had meant. Baby steps. Baby steps.

The intake was just an intake, and you…you got nervous halfway through. You could only scratch the surface of what your issues were. You were plenty certain it was just written up as generalized anxiety disorder for future billing but…The lady who was doing the intake wasn’t even going to be the one doing the regular sessions. You didn’t leave the appointment feeling very good, but you didn’t want Papyrus to see that. You really got only one suggestion from that intake person, and she really misunderstood the situation.

You had, very briefly mentioned that you had been dating Papyrus a few months, and…it somehow lead to her suggesting you introduce him to your family which…well, wasn’t a terrible idea. You had mentioned Papyrus a few times over the phone, and other than the fact he was tall and had a strange name, your family knew nothing about him. With the holidays coming up…now wouldn’t be a terrible time to do it. You had a week off between Christmas and New Years which you had planned to spend at least some of with your family, why not ask Papyrus to come along?

Well, ‘why not’ turned into something you weren’t expecting.

“And why the hell not, Papyrus? They’re my family, they’re not gonna burn you at the stake or anything!”

“Well, then tell me why ya haven’t even told them I’m a monster yet?” Papyrus slammed down the pause button twisting his body back around to shoot you a look.

“Because ya know they wouldn’t like it.”

“They fucking raised me! You think I could come from a prejudiced family and turn out like I am?”

Papyrus scoffed, turning back to his game.

“I never said ya weren’t.”

That did it.

“What the actual FUCK is wrong with you?” You grabbed him by the hood, yanking him back to look you in the eye. He snarled, twisting your hand out of his hood.

“Just. Because yer smaller ‘n me? Doesn’t mean ya get to push me around.” You instantly felt a chill spark through the room. Oh god, he was—

“I am not going to tolerate this in my own house!” Sans leapt down from the second floor landing, touching down in the middle of the living room. He barely made a sound.

“If you’re going to fight, we have a back yar…”He paused, eyes focusing on his brother fully. He took a step towards the elder skeleton, and you shrank back into the corner of the couch.

“When was the last time you slept, brother?” Papyrus slouched down under his gaze.

“I took a nap when I got off wor—”

“You and I both know what I mean. A full sleep. REM sleep. Healing sleep.” Papyrus didn’t respond. Sans sighed. Rubbing his hand down his face.

“Why do you do this?”

“Papyrus? You aren’t sleeping?”

* * *

Turns out, you had been right about that microexpression you had seen the night Papyrus agreed to chaperone you to your doctor’s appointments.

‘ _I had a really shitty day at work...I'm taking it out on you._ ’ It was something that repeated over and over in your head now that you knew what it meant to Papyrus. His parent—his incredibly terrible parent—used to take it out on him for the smallest things after Gaster wasn’t in any shape to protect the boys.

“ _I had a shitty day at work and I’m not going to handle any disrespect from you, boy._ ” They’d broken his ribs for the first time that night. And Papyrus remembered it because of something you had said. He’d dreamt about it. Other than his catnaps, he hadn’t slept since. You were both so fucked up.

After that confrontation between you and Sans, he completely shut down. He gave you this look...this angry, kind of annoyed expression that you recognized from the times you had seen it behind his brother's back. He stopped texting you little morbid jokes on your lunch hour. He stopped talking about his day when you hung out. He'd change the subject whenever you brought up anything remotely to do with his life underground or either of your anxiety issues.

And tonight, he cancelled game night. He wasn't feeling it, he told you by way of dismissive texts before work. Which would have been fine if Sans hadn't then called you, because Papyrus wasn't talking to him, either. You understood. You did. But at the same time, you were so angry and pissed off at him. You wanted nothing more than to help him, and he was pushing you away! He was pushing you and his own brother away.

**_Well fuck him!_ **

You were so frustrated. You wanted so badly to just—oof! You didn’t know! You cared so much about Papyrus.

One moment you were driving to work, still fuming about Papyrus’s dismission texts, and the next moment, there was a fire fighter outside your shattered window, trying to get your attention from beside your wrecked car. You didn’t even know what happened. You were dizzy, and you looked around, trying to figure out what just happened. There were flashing lights all over the road, and an older couple was sitting on the sidewalk, the man with his head in his hands. The older woman was looking up, talking to a police officer.

Oh.

Were you just in a car accident? That would make sense given these strange circumstances. With that realization, your mind became much clearer, you could finally make out the firefighter’s words and pain went shooting up your left arm. You gasped, and more pain flooded in, making it hurt to even breathe. Oh, god. Go back to when you were dizzy, please!

You bemoaned the loss of your car, knowing it was probably totaled, you were pulled out through the passenger side door. Oh shit.

“How am I gonna get to work? I was on my way to work.” You asked one of the paramedics as they wheeled you out.

“I don’t think you’re going to work today, but let’s just breathe, and we can worry about that later,” he said, before muttering to the other paramedic, “pretty sure she’s concussed.”

“Uh, I’m right here. I can hear you.” You didn’t get a response from anyone in the ambulance.

You puzzled over the situation for a while, realizing that your thoughts probably were a little out of order right now. You definitely couldn’t work like this. God, your chest was burning so badly. Everything hurt so much. Your car was wrecked, your insurance was going to go up, you would need to rent a car just to go to work and— _fuck—_ your arm hurt! It was probably broken! How were you going to get any work done like this? How were you going to pay your bills if you couldn’t work? You should call someone. Didn’t they always cut your clothes off for things like this? You liked this top, though as you looked down, you realized it was covered in blood, already ruined. You originally got it because it reminded you of Papyrus’s sweater. Oh geez. Papyrus. You completely forgot about him. What if you had a brain bleed and died. Your last words to him would have been said while you were annoyed with him. You didn’t want him to remember you like that. Not to mention your family! When was the last time you had visited them?! Oh man, this was so bad. You were beginning to hyperventilate, and it was killing your chest, it hurt so bad. The pain was beginning to make you cry. It was so ridiculous.

Thankfully, when you got into the hospital, they were quick to get you pain medicine and something else that kinda chilled you out. Had to be a valium or something, because your anxiety dropped completely off. You were high as a kite as they ran you through a CT scanner and X-ray.

* * *

After an eternity, a nurse finally came in your room.

“Did anyone tell you what happened?” She asked softly.

“No? I mean I think I was hit by a car, but I got asked a bunch of weird questions,” they accepted you answer of ‘ughhhh’ when asked who the president was.

She sighed in a sort of annoyed fashion and finally let you in on what was going on. You were T-boned in an intersection. Your left arm was broken, thst you could tell from the soft cast, along with two ribs on that side, and you were bruised to hell apart from that. You had a concussion, but it didn’t look too serious. Oh, and the lovely stitches in the side of your face that were sure to leave a nasty scar.

“You got off really lucky,” she added.

“We’re going to keep you overnight for observation with that head injury, but do you have someone who could pick you up tomorrow? Maybe bring you some clothes for your release?”

Your family was two hours away. But. Someone else was closer.

You dug your phone out of your purse, which had been miraculously unscathed. You had under 30% battery because, of course you did. You dialed. No answer. You tried again. Still no answer. You made a face. You dialed Sans.

“Hello, human. It isn’t often you call me.”

“Is Papyrus there?”

“Oh yes. He’s in a vegetative state on the couch. He’s alive, I’m sure, but I haven’t seen him move in about ten hours. I had to call in to his jobs so that he might have a chance of excusing his—”

“Sans, Sans, may I speak?” There was a pause.

“Yes, human. You may.” Then in a quieter voice, he asked, “Have you figured a way to help Papyrus yet?”

“No…Sans, I uh. I need his help. I’m in the hospital right now. I need him to go to my house and bring me some clot—”

“ _What do you mean you’re in the hospital?! What happened?!”_ You heard some sort of static on the line.

“I was, uh, I was in a car accident. I’ll be fine, but—”

“ _SHE WAS HIT BY A CAR!_ ” Sans shouted this, and you heard more shuffling sounds, followed by a distant ‘GOD DAMMIT!’ that sounded an awful lot like Papyrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a lot of soul searching recently, and...Idk I'm so confused. A lot happens in this chapter, so it's a little bit piecemeal. Next Chapter: Papyrus is a prick, who meets reader's familia, only to realize that he was being a prick for no reason.


	11. I Told You So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is a man child.

You attempted to relay your need for clothing but you weren’t sure that you got your point across when the call suddenly dropped. You attempted to rub your left hand down your face, but it began to throb the instant you moved it. You sighed, earning another bout of pain. From your side, this time. You decided to just give in and go to sleep. You’d been feeling drowsy since they gave you pain meds, but you decided to call your family before you passed out.

The one who picked up the call seemed tired, like you woke them up from a nap, but immediately was at full attention when you started speaking.

"I don't want you to worry but," was always the best way to get someone to worry, but hey, you were kind of drugged up right now, your mental faculties weren't the best. Your family member made it clear that they were dropping everything to come see you at the hospital.

"What kind of shape is your car in?" They asked.

"Uh, one of the cops said it was uh, more than likely totaled. I don't know. I was hoping I wouldn't have to worry about how to get home until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Are they keeping you overnight?"

"...yeaaah...I have a concussion they want to watch, I guess. I can't talk long, whatever they gave me is making me hella sleepy."

"Okay, okay, sleep. I'll be there soon, okay?"

You couldn't remember the rest of the conversation because at that point the one thing you cared about in the world was going to sleep.

When you heard your curtain being thrown aside, you were instantly awoken to find something cold and hard against your uninjured cheek. You blinked awake, expecting to find one of your parents, but instead you were staring up into the empty sockets of a skeleton. You briefly startled, shaking your head.

"Dude your hands are fucking freezing!"

"Sorry baby, I'm sorry," Papyrus said, jumping back. He laid his hand on your head, thankfully the cushion of your hair prevented the cold from getting to your skin. You blinked back up to him, finding him looking over you, softly shaking his head.

"Y-you look terrible."

"Thanks, Papyrus," you grumbled. You would be in a better mood had he not laid his icesickles for hands on your bare skin. Seriously, did he stick them in the freezer before getting to...Oh that's right. You were at the hospital. Your throbbing ribs were doing a good job of reminding you why.

"I'm sorry I d...I didn't pick up the phone." He smoothed your hair down, then sitting down in the chair beside you.

"Baby, I'm...I've been a real asshole, lately, and..." he trailed off.

"Funny I gotta nearly get kill myself killed to get you to talk to me again."

Papyrus's eyes raised back to meet yours, and he sunk down in the chair, with a sort of kicked-puppy expression. He stared at you for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing, before he grunted, sliding his hand down his face. He swallowed thickly, or at least made the sound of it because he was a skeleton and...?

"I'm sorry..."

You sighed, reaching up to squeeze his hand. It was still cold, but it was warming up now.

"PAPYRUS!" A voice called from down the hall. Papyrus jerked, gaze darting to the door, as Sans burst through it. He stomped his way to the other side of the bed, glare affixed to Papyrus's face.

"I can't believe you just left me there, without even picking up the clothes requested by the human."

"How did you get here so fast?" Papyrus asked, with a heavy tone of shock.

"While you were scrambling around the entire hospital looking for the human's room, I checked in like a normal person and they told me right were she was."

"No but I mean how did you get to the hospital so fast?"

Sans cocked his head to the side, like a confused puppy.

"I drove? Honestly Papyrus, if such a thing requires haste, you shouldn't expect me to run here." Now you were curious. What kinds of speed was he doing, having just heard you'd been in a car accident, to have gotten here not long after Papyrus, who had obviously teleported.

Papyrus seemed to accept that answer, his gaze returning to you. Sans took the duffel bag from his shoulder and pulled out several outfits, thoughtfully grabbing multiple outfits so you wouldn't have to look like a toddler had dressed you. You didn't really care what you looked like if you were being honest, so long as you were comfortable. You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you were beginning to feel uncomfortable again. When you glanced down you saw that your upper arm was bruised to hell and back, not just the lower portion broken. You suspected that your entire was covered in similar bruises, those being another source of your pain. When you felt phylanges back at your chin--thankfully warm by now, you saw that Papyrus was fixated on that side of your face.

"I'm so sorry that happened to ya, sweetheart. Have you seen your face yet?"

"No, but I imagine it's...not good. You think it'll scar?"

His expression faded. There you got your answer, as your right hand came up to brush the stitches there. From your forehead down past your eye to your cheekbone. The glass had thankfully missed your eye, but the damage to your face...you didn't want to think about.

"Why are you making such sour faces, you two? So what if it scars?"

"Bro--"

"Don't call me--"

"Scars are a big deal for humans. They didn't grow up how we did, they--"

"Eh? Well screw that. Human, I'll have you know that monsters don't care about what kind of damages your body experiences, so long as your body still functions properly! And beside that! Now we match!" He smiled widely at the last statement, pointing to the large crack over his left socket. It stretched halfway down his forehead, down to his cheekbone...just...just like the stitches on your face. The thought made you start to chuckle, but you stopped pretty quickly, your ribs complaining about the jarring motions.

"See?"

You settled for a smile as Sans sat back, obviously proud of himself for cheering up the human. Papyrus, on the other hand, you saw was still wearing an unreadable expression as he looked over your face. When you glanced at him, he removed his hand from your chin and drew it over his knees, which were curled against his chest as he sat in the chair. For as tall as Papyrus was, when he curled up like that, he really made himself look thin and frail, all but drowning in his fluffy coat. Especially when he jumped as the sound of a wheelchair being pushed past your door met your ears. You leaned over to look at him better, when one of the machines started beeping loudly. You were too drugged up to respond with your usual panic, but Papyrus made up for that, jumping to attention and instantly hovering over you, asking what was happening, eyes darting up to all of the machines, trying to decipher which one was making the racket.

“Brother, calm yourself, I doubt it’s—” Sans began just as your nurse came into the room, brushing past the smaller skeleton to the IV machine which was hooked up into your arm.

  
“Bent your arm,” she chuckled, opening the machine and pressing a series of keys which instantly made the machine stop it’s alarm.

“What does that mean?” Papyrus asked, almost accusingly, a hand secured to your shoulder, protective.

“It beeps to alert us when someone bends their arm, so we can reduce the risk of air bubbles in the IV getting into the bloodstream.”

Papyrus raised a brow.

“I thought veins transported air. Ain’t humans supposed ta have air in their blood?” Jesus, why was he sounding like that? Like he suspected your nurse was trying to poison you or something. The nurse was nice, Papyrus, calm the fuck down. Stop being an asshole.

“Uh,” she paused, “well, microscopically. If there’s too much air it causes an embolism.” She turned her head towards him, looking him over for a second. “Humans are both pretty delicate and resilient at the same time, everything has to be in a very specific balance. I would explain but I need to get going, okay?”

“Tch. Don’t patronize me. I ain’t just some dumb monster that has to have everythin’ explained ta him, so you can knock that right—”

“Papyrus!” You interrupted.

He froze, but otherwise didn't react. The nurse, looking a little frazzled, just blinked and pushed a button on her pager, which was still buzzing softly at her side, before excusing herself. As soon as she had slid the curtain closed and you heard the door click you looked back up to your idiot boyfriend. Why was he acting like this? You could see sweat beading up on his skull, what was going on with him?

"What the hell is your problem?!"

Papyrus didn't respond. Sans, however, finally piped up from where he had sat suspiciously quite.

"He's just on edge because he hates hospitals." You whipped your head around, staring at the younger skeleton, who sat there with his legs crossed, one hand holding his chin.

"What?"

"Did you injure your ears in the crash, human? He hates hospitals."

"Sans..."Papyrus said, a tone of warning in his voice. Sans glared, pointing a warning back at him.

"Do NOT take that tone with me, brother."

"There you go," you started, "why didn't you do that earlier? You're usually the first one to catch Papyrus when he's acting out."

"I'm not a child," Papyrus mumbled, very much like a disgruntled 12-year-old.

Sans uncrossed and recrossed his legs. Wow where did he get those boots, they were cute, but you doubted you'd ever find a pair to fit your thighs, even if you had the guts to ever wear something like that.

"I was just observing. I wanted to know if he could handle himself in an environment like this one, and he apparently cannot. I would have told him off, but you beat me to it."

You sighed wearily, laying back fully against your hospital bed. You looked back over towards Papyrus, keeping eye contact for a few seconds until he wavered as he sat back down. His leg immediately began bouncing, and you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his skull. You didn't notice it earlier but he definitely looked uncomfortable. An anxious mess, really.

"You don't like hospitals?"

Papyrus grit his teeth. You took that as a yes.

"Sweetheart, yer, uh, gonna be discharged tomorrow? You need me ta get ya home? Chances are you'll still be on pain meds, so ya prolly shouldn't drive." He was changing the subject, but you suppose you couldn't object to that.

"My car's totaled, Papyrus. I would really appreciate if you took me home, thank you."

He nodded.

"Oh, I remembered, just now. I also brought your charger, human. I had guessed you may need it if you were staying here for a while." He plugged the charger into an available outlet and asked for your phone.

"Thank you so much, Sans. You're so thoughtful." This earned a dusting of purple across the skeleton's cheekbones, before he shook his head.

"Of course I am!" He said, with stumbling brovado, "One should be in such a situation. I knew my brother had a rather one-track mind, whereas I am a strategist, and must think of various possibilities when encountering a new situation. As one where you had need to charge your phone."

Sans was. Truly a peach. For all his supposed military experience and his overall bossy nature, he was also really endearing. He sat back down, and finally dug a maze book out of his--where did he pull that out of, his boot? You heard Papyrus sit up from your other side. He brushed a hand over your hair and you turned to look at him.

"We'll take care of ya while yer recoverin', kay sweetheart?" he bent down to touch his teeth to your forehead, "I uh, really do feel like shit for...yeah nevermind, I gotta go out for a smoke." He smoothed your hair down before turning to head behind the curtain and out the door. Your hair was damp. His palms were really sweaty. Gross.

You turned to Sans, watching as he drug the pencil along with the pad of paper, completing the first maze, then flipping the page to the next one. He was really good at those, wasn't he?

"Sans?"

"Yes, human?" He responded without even turning to look at you.

"Why don't you two like hospitals?" Sans blinked and looked up at you.

"Whenever did I say I didn't like hospitals?" You took a deep breath, cringing as your chest ached. Was it time for more pain meds yet? God, you hoped they'd give you something soon.

"When I first met you two. Papyrus was pretty banged up and I offered to take you two to the hospital. You seemed very against it."

Sans closed his eyes, and folded the book in his lap.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's not a lot of humans who take kindly to us. You're rather bizarre in that regard."

"Wait, what?"

"We get turned away at movie theaters, even if I'm willing to pay good money, Papyrus has to port us in. Papyrus has a Master's Degree," he has a what, "but the only people willing to hire him pay minimum wage. It's not as if we're hurting for money, but it's the principle of the matter. I've had food spit in, Papyrus has taken to covering up strange tastes with that overly-spicy garbage, etcetera, etcetera. Especially in professional settings. Humans tend not to understand our biology, so too many doctors and scientists become frustrated just at the thought of our existence. If they would just get over themselves and collaborate with our scientists, it would become quite clear to them. Undyne is a special case, because the liberal arts faculty pushed so hard for inclusivity. For the rest of us...Well, that is why I hate hospitals.

Papyrus doesn't like the smell of them, or the sterile environment. He says it reminds him of the time he was working in the labs. WHICH! He still refuses to talk about! You know he quit the only good job he ever had in the Underground? Ridiculous."

Your head was beginning to spin. Papyrus had a Master's? Wait, what? He worked as an aquarium janitor, a gas station clerk, and he had actually been to all those years of college? He worked in a lab? People spit in the brothers's food? So that’s why he drinks tobasco sauce straight from the bottle? Sans was looking more and more agitated as he went on, and you…you realized that none of this information was new to you. You had heard these things before, lawsuits over food poisoning in food intended monsters at restaurants that ended up in front of human, monsters being disallowed for the ‘no shoes no shirt no service’ policy when the monsters didn’t even have feet. You’d heard it all, but that it happened so often, to these two brothers who you cared so much about…

You’d been in this wonderful, blissful state of ignorance for a couple months after getting with Papyrus. You had been less focused on the fact that Papyrus was a monster, and more focused on the fact he was a guy. A stubborn, sometimes arrogant, often sweet, anxious basket case of a guy—otherwise much like yourself. He was tall, a little clingy, swore like a sailor and had a terribly wonderful sense of humor. He was a great guy and to think that…You had met these two, really met them the night they had been attacked by humans, hadn’t you? It shouldn’t come as any sort of shock to you. Papyrus had been beaten pretty badly, hadn’t he? You couldn’t be certain, but you highly doubted he would have been able to make it to his home that night if he’d had to walk. It made your gut twist up in a kind of guilt you could do nothing about. One human feeling guilty for the actions of others didn’t take back the damage that had been done to monsters by angry, specist humans. There had been progress made in the past three years, but it was all surface-level proclamations to push certain politicians further into public favor. Legalized marriage between monsters and humans, non-discrimination acts which businesses still found their way around, and so forth. All these features left loopholes big enough to drive a truck through by which savvy humans used as a means to exploit the system with tax breaks while still maintaining specist proceedings. 

But, if these two were so hurt by humans, why did Papyrus like you to begin with? He asked _you_ out, after all. He let you hold his SOUL. He trusted you with the literal manifestation of his entire being. Hell, he basically let you give his SOUL a blowjob. _Okay, that was weird to think about._

“But wait, if it was—” do _not_ undermine his reality, “how did you get a visitor’s pass? How’d you know what room I was in?”

“I got into the computer and found your surname in the system. I borrowed the visitor’s pass. Security is surprisingly lax within human institutions like this one.”

“Y-y-you did _what?!_ ” That was illegal. That was _really fucking illegal_ you were pretty sure. Also how the fuck did he just casually hack the hospital’s system? There were sensitive medical records in there! At least, you were pretty sure.

Sans paused.

“Human, I worry that concussion may have done permanent damage.” Oh Sans, what the hell you enigmatic little skeleton. You doubted you were going to get a decent answer to that question out of him.

“If anyone asks, I am your brother-in-law,” Sans commented when you didn’t speak further, “you’re married to my brother, and that makes me family. Sure, it’s a lot of lies, but Papyrus was set on seeing you, and you definitely needed a change of clothes. I can’t let him go anywhere that could raise his anxiety as much as this without a chaperone. Papyrus doesn't need to know all this.” Sans paused.

“Speaking of. I should go find him, make sure he hasn’t gotten lost, he’s been gone a while,” he said, standing and tucking his book into— **you knew it had to be his boot!** —“You may sleep while I am gone.” As if you…needed permission to sleep?

It was about three minutes after Sans had walked out that you heard the door creak open again. Assuming it was Papyrus, and Sans, you opened your eyes when you heard a different voice whisper your name. A recognizable voice, but not either of the skeletons's. You looked over your parents standing beside your smile and a smile made its way to your lips. You were glad to see them. They pet your hair and told you, how terrible you looked. Wonderful. Two different people already.

"You almost look like you were hit by a car," one of them joked and that make you laugh, which hurt your ribs. You explained to them that your ribs were broken, and just about everything hurt right now. If they should see a nurse, to ask if it was time for more pain medication.

It felt good to see your parents. It had been a few weeks since you had last seen them. You were planning on staying over for the holidays anyway, so they decided that you would just stay home with them until they got everything sorted out and you had healed up some. You felt so wrapped up in conversation you hardly noticed someone walk into the room until the curtain was pulled aside.

"Hey, Papyrus," you greeted. Papyrus didn't respond. He was holding a food container, which you really hoped was for you. You hadn't eaten lunch that day. You blinked, seeing that the room had become eerily quiet.

"Who are you?" Papyrus asked, finally.

"Oh, these are my parents," you said, gesturing. You saw Papyrus flinch, and realized that his eyelights had gone completely out, since normally his sockets didn't look quite so empty. Papyrus took a tiny step back, and you could see fear of some sort on his face. What was he afraid of?

"Oh! This is your boyfriend then," one of your parents asked you.

"Well if this isn't sort of awkward," the other piped up, "I woulda liked to meet you before this, and maybe outside of a hospital but, eh, details, details." They smiled at Papyrus. It was a little awkward-looking, but still genuine.

"You're the one that keeps trying to feed this girl spicy food," the other laughed, "she's a wimp, I'm the one who appreciates a good hot sauce."

Papyrus stayed just as still, but his eyesockets brightened up a bit. With impeccable timing, Sans came bursting into the room. It was hard to miss the guy, he knew how to make an entrance. Flinging the curtain completely aside and pushing his brother aside with it to take a better look.

"Oh, I suppose you called your family, yes?" He asked you.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I told them I was in the hospital and..."you trailed off. Ah, that anxiety medication must be wearing off right along with your pain medicine.

"Very well! I am the Notorious Sans! This, is my brother." He gestured to Papyrus, now standing a foot off to the side. Papyrus blinked, and you watched his body relax some.

“Hi. I uh, really wasn’t expectin’ to uh, y’know. I’m Papyrus.”

Overall, it was an awkward introduction, but the five of you managed to get through the conversation with as little pain as possible. Papyrus clung to the topic of spicy foods like a log in the middle of the ocean, as did the parent who brought it up. It was just a little while later than your nurse popped her head in, saying that visiting hours were up. How had so much time passed? Oh yeah, someone finally gave you some pain meds and you managed to pass out again. You missed a good deal of conversation. You hoped Papyrus didn’t scare your parents off, and you hoped they didn’t scare him off. Everyone stood, and while your parents collected their bags, Papyrus came to you, looking like he meant to peck you on the forehead. He paused, saw that your parent’s weren’t looking, and brushed his teeth against the top of your head.

“Night sweetheart. Call me the second they discharge ya, and I’ll take ya home.”

You blinked.

“Oh, sorry about that. I’m actually going to be staying with my parents for a while to recover.”

You heard the sound of a clap.

“Excellent!” Sans proclaimed. “We do not need to take care of you while you heal! I know for a fact that my lazy brother would have had me doing most of the work if that were the case.”

“Uh…” Papyrus’s expression changed. He looked…disappointed? Oh geez, was he looking forward to playing the Good Boyfriend™ and taking care of you?

“Th-th-that’s good. You should be with yer family, then…”

* * *

You awoke in the middle of the night for some reason. You were confused as to your surroundings before you realized this was just your bedroom in your family home. You’d been more than a little high when you’d been driven home, you’d just about forgotten all about it. You rolled over, hissing a bit as you put pressure on your injured left side.

Suddenly, there was a sound. A sound at your window. You froze. Your gaze locked with the shape in the window. It was a man’s shape. Oh god. OH GOD. This was the end for you. Murdered by a stranger who snuck into your bedroom in the dead of—

GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU PAPYRUS.

Why was he so intent on giving you a heart attack? You sat up and gave him a glare, though you doubted he could see it from the window. Your body complained as you pushed the covers off yourself and strode over to the window. You slid it open.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Miss me?”

“No? I just saw you earlier today. Why did you make me get up? You could’ve just teleported into my room, couldn’t you?” You put your good hand on your hip. Papyrus tilted his head with a grin.

“Actually no. I can only teleport to places I’ve been before. And I’ve never been to your house.”

“Uh…How _did_ you find my house?” You blinked.

“I uh, _borrowed_ Sans’s bike and followed ya guys.”

You slapped your forehead, running your hand down your face and mumbling, “why couldn’t you have used the door like a normal person?”

“Didn’t wanna, uh…”

“My family, right?” He didn’t respond. What he did do was crawl in through your window. You sighed, walking back to your bed.

“You know we’re not 17, right? You don’t need to sneak around like this.” He shrugged, dusting himself off and closing the window behind him. You watched him carefully as he sat beside you on the bed. He rested his hand on your bruised upper arm.

“Could I uh, try healing you a little bit? I’m not exactly good at healing magic, but I uh…” You quirked a brow, then nodded. Almost instantly, a soothing warmth spread through your arm. It felt so nice. You leaned into his touch, and before you knew it, you were both leaned back against the wall, one hand on your bruised arm, the other on your side. Until suddenly, he stopped. Aw, that felt so nice.

“I figured as much. I can’t actually heal a human like this.”

"Hmm?"

"I told ya I wasn't very good with healing magic..." he trailed off, rubbing your arm, but without that wonderful warmth of that Monster healing magic you'd heard so much about. It really did feel nice.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked. You tilted your head up at him. 

"Okay with the healing magic?" You asked, curious. Why wouldn't you be? Unless he meant something along the lines of 'are you okay with having perfectly innocent touches to your arm and side' in which case...you were. If it was Papyrus.

"Uh, that too, but, uh." He brought his knee up a little bit and you realized he was just about laying on your bed with you on his lap. You stiffened a bit and you felt him jump slightly, as well...but then...you turned yourself more against him. He wasn't exactly comfortable--he was really lumpy, actually--but he was warm. Smelled like cigarettes, but he was warm. You wrapped your good arm over him, where his belly would be if he had one.

"I'm...okay with it."

"I can't exactly heal ya, butbI can sorta, soothe the bruises a little bit." You nodded.

"Yeah, keep doing that." You told him. You felt that warmth back on your ribs and arm again. It felt so nice.

* * *

You were awoken for the second time that night (frankly with as much as you were sleeping you should get used to that before long) by someone whispering your name. You blinked up to one of your parents standing over you with your water bottle and medicine in hand.

"You're gonna wanna take the next dose before this one wears off," they said. You began to sit up, but you felt something around your middle. You felt yourself pale, realizing it was Papyrus's arm around your middle. He was sleeping curled up around you. Your gaze locked with your parent's but thankfully, they held a finger in front of them to shush you. You blinked as they handed you the water and medication. You looked back at Papyrus, completely mortified, feeling, again, like that hypothetical 17-year-old. Yet, your parent seemed unfazed. You swallowed the pills with water, and handed the bottle back, feeling your face flush at last. 

"He's still asleep?" They asked, looking past you at the monster behind you.

"Oh. Um. Yeah, he sleeps like the dead." 

Your parent smirked.

"Bu-dum tss," they whispered with a silent chuckle before they turned towards the door, waving you goodnight again. You let out a very quiet scream as you settled back under your covers, face feeling flushed. Papyrus, thankfully, had laid on top of the covers, but he had obviously been the one to tuck you in when you passed out. 

"Like the dead?" You heard him mumble behind you.

"That was quite the shot at me," he chuckled.

"You're awake?!" You spun around to face him, your body complaining.

"Of course I was," he winked, before, suddenly, his expression changed.

"Thought I was gonna get my lack-of-ass beat, a monster getting caught on top of a bed instead of under it...but uh...looks like your family is....actually pretty chill." He wore a sheepish sort of smile.

You smiled, despite your embarrassment.

"I told you so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had a panic attack last night, after learning something even more devastating news about my childhood from talks with my "sister" so I called a rape crisis line and the advocate really calmed me down. It was the last drive I needed to keep working on this particular fic as part of my recovery.


	12. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad dream.  
> A friend of Papyrus heals you somewhat.  
> Papyrus mans up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some very vague non-con and violence at the beginning of this chapter. Jump to the first cut if you wish.  
> It's not crucial, and although vague, I did cry a little while writing it, but that's because I'm a big baby who cries while writing fanfiction.

“I don’t know how you managed to trick us like that,” Sans spat, “But I should have known better.”

“Sans, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” What were you apologizing for?

“No you’re not.” Sans grabbed your shoulders and slammed you back down against the hard ground. One femur forced its way between your knees. You were frozen. You couldn’t move. A deer in headlights.

“Oh god, not you too,” managed to spill from your lips.

_Not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, **not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too, not you too.**_

Your mind was screaming the phrase.

“And why not? You’re just another human, why shouldn’t the same be true for me?” He was just another man. One that wanted to hurt you. Why _Sans_ though? Why him? Oh, Sans, please no.

He grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling up. You tried to squirm away, finally.

“Stop that,” Sans growled, slamming your shoulder back against the ground. You whimpered. It was all you could do. His sockets narrowed, and he climbed on top of you, straddling you fully. His hard fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing off your airway. You still couldn’t move, couldn’t fight him. This is what you were afraid of. Making someone angry would result in this. Sans snarled as he squeezed tighter and tighter. You couldn’t do anything. Your body wouldn’t fight this. You were being murdered by someone you called a friend, and your body was just _letting. It. happen._

All you could do was stare at his face as he strangled you. His face was nothing like the embarrassed blushing you had seen at the hospital. You couldn’t watch. You closed your eyes.

* * *

And woke up all at once. You were looking out at your old family bedroom in the morning twilight. Papyrus had failed to shut the curtains all the way, and you saw that snow had begun to fall. You wish you felt relieved, excited to see the first snowfall of winter, but the remnants of terror were still coursing through your veins. You were trembling as you sat up. A sharp pain in your side brought you back to reality, somewhat. Your ribs were burning. You took deep breaths, in order to feel more of the pain. So long as it wasn’t on your neck or shoulder…it was different, it was real, and it was beginning to erase the phantom pain from the violence in your nightmare.

Then the guilt set it. You looked down onto the black and white form curled up on the end of your bed. Papyrus was curled into a ball at your feet, like a beloved little dog or something. He’d covered himself with his coat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, covering your eyes with one hand. Papyrus’s brother didn’t deserve that. You…Didn’t see Sans as any sort of threat, on that level. You curled up a bit more, trying to stop your trembling. You closed your eyes. You knew what this was about though. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. It happened with a male grade school teacher, who told knock-knock jokes whenever his students seemed unhappy, and the elderly librarian who always chatted with borrowers while he checked them out. Whenever a man felt particularly non-threatening, your mind did this. Your nightmares came to haunt you. Tell you that they _did_ pose a threat. You knew it wasn’t right. You awoke and you knew it was ridiculous. You felt so guilty about boiling them down to just another predator.The fear in the dream still clung to you in the waking world. It didn’t matter that they didn’t have the slightest desire to hurt you. It didn’t matter that you felt safe with them. Safe, even if it was just the two of you alone. Safe in a way you didn’t even completely feel with Papyrus, strictly because you knew he still had a sexual interest in you. And you had a sexual interest in him.

Your eyes darted to the sleeping form of the skeleton. You _did_ feel safe with him, though…didn’t you? He slept right beside you twice, now, and you had no fear of him touching you while you slept…right? You…you tried to rationalize away the thoughts that, because you showed interest, he would take things too far. If he wanted more, he could justify that you wanted it too. Because you did. But you didn’t. You were too scared of the pain and trauma.

More importantly, Papyrus _wouldn’t_ do that. He seemed so viscerally angry when he heard that someone else had done that _to_ you. He even suggested that it had been a past boyfriend, which meant, he knew that assault can occur within relationships, as well. You can’t just take what you want without getting consent, first.

You trusted him. Right?

You swallowed thickly, trying to control your shaking again. Until you realized. You weren’t trembling. Your eyes widened, finally catching onto the sparking red bits of magic behind Papyrus’s closed sockets. _He_ was shaking. His expression was pained. His jaw was quivering. _He was having a nightmare._

Oh no.

You leaned forward, your ribs complaining, your soft cast catching on the blanket. You reached out, your hand gripping his own, firmly.

“Papyrus,” you whispered. You rubbed your thumb over his wrist bones. You shook his hand again, calling his name a little louder.

His sockets popped open and he woke with a jolt, fear evident on his face.

“W-w-what is it?” He glanced up at you, and his expression softened to something more akin to just waking up. You saw a tear slide down his cheekbone before he wiped it away with his other hand.

“Uh,” you stalled, looking to your window.

“Look outside, it’s snowing.” You smiled. He frowned deeply. That wasn’t what you expected. He turned his face into the covers with an annoyed groan.

“I fuckin’ hate snow,” he mumbled. It didn’t seem like he was really talking to you.

Oh yeah. He lived in Snowdin before he moved above ground, didn’t he? Oops. Well, false excuse aside, at least he wasn’t having a nightmare anymore.

* * *

“He might be able to heal ya up, at least some.” Papyrus was suggesting bringing his friend to your house. The one who had fixed up his broken ribs with healing magic.

“I can’t do it, humans are fuckin’ weird.” His magic still worked as a nice pain killer though.

“And you’re bad at healing magic.”

“Well, that was a given.”

You allowed it. Especially upon finally examining the depth of your injuries in the bathroom. The cut on your face…it wasn’t deep, but. It was jagged and long. The scar left behind…Papyrus had left soon after you came back from the bathroom, his brother had been blowing up his phone all night. Probably because he had _stolen_ his brother’s bike and left him stranded at the hospital.

Needless to say, he wasn’t around for breakfast. So you had a very quiet, awkward breakfast with the parent who had seen him in the bed with you. They didn’t say anything, but they kept giving you these curious glances. When you got up to get some pain medicine, they finally spoke.

“You know, the next time Papyrus wants to visit, please just tell him to use the front door?”

You obviously hadn’t mentioned that he could teleport. As he did into your room just now. Not just Papyrus though, he also had his friend with him. One thing though. He had failed to mention that his friend **was like ten feet tall!** Okay, maybe not ten feet tall. But he was definitely crouching so as to not hit his massive horns against your ceiling. Massive. Yeah. His face was much like a white goat’s but with a black beard and long black hair, streaked with grey. He sort of…wait, was this?

“You’re King Asgore!” You blinked. The king had come to claim his position after the monsters returned to the surface and the queen was put on trial for her crimes. There were rumors that he was still undergoing strict psychiatric supervision, but he had been given the same sort of power in decision-making for his people as, say, a First Nations chief—slightly more than a figurehead.

“Governor, now.” His voice was just as deep and, well, king-like, as you had heard on TV. Your eyes flicked to Papyrus. He was friends with the king of Monsters? Well, you supposed, there were far less Monsters underground than humans in your city. It probably wasn’t difficult to become at least somewhat acquainted with most everyone.

As you blinked up at his enormous form, he reached up a massive paw, and you jumped as the fur made contact with your cheek. He didn’t flinch away. He raised a brow and frowned.

“You are alright, child. I did not mean to startle you.”

‘Child?’ He wasn’t quite as old as your parents—scratch that, he was like 800, wasn’t he. It still felt odd that he was addressing you like a kid. Then again, to him, you were the size of a small child.

“Let me see the wound, there?” You gulped, nodding. You winced as you peeled the dressing off your cheek, and then your brow. This guy had helped Papyrus, right. You glanced over at Papyrus, who was leaning against your dresser, looking at his phone a moment before he glanced back up at you. Papyrus obviously wasn’t concerned about Asgore, so neither were you.

“Well,” Asgore tilted your chin, magenta eyes scanning over the stitches, “I have never needed to heal Chara’s bones. I do not know that I can fully heal those, but this is easy, _no bones_ about it.” You heard Papyrus snort from across the room. He turned your face back to him. You recalled that he had an adopted human child. Chara must be their name. Yes, you were fairly certain you had heard that name once or twice on TV. The first interspecies adoption that ever took place. It was still a difficult process, moreso than human adoption, but you were glad that the adoption had been successful. Asgore seemed like the type to make a good father.

“Young one, do you still want me to try?” You nodded enthusiastically. Asgore nodded. He released your chin and sat on your bed. He stretched his back, standing in that hunched position must have been hard on him. He gestured for you to make the two steps within his arm’s reach. Sitting down, he was still probably on eye level with Papyrus. He pressed his hand to your face, and a moment after you felt that warm, wonderful sensation you had the night before when Papyrus used his healing magic on you. You watched Asgore take your wrist in hand, and his massive paw closed around the cast, and soon you felt that warmth spread through your arm, too.

“Why is it that, uh,” you hesitated, suddenly nervous addressing the big guy, “you could heal Papyrus’s broken bones, but not mine?”

“Humans are weird,” Papyrus answered.

“And you’re not?” Asgore retorted.

“Hey! I resemble that remark.” Papyrus’s mouth curved into a smile. He leaned back against the wall.

“It’s cuz, well, so the only reason healin’ works in the first place is cuz humans have a little magic in ‘em. Healing magic works to knit the magic particles back together when they’re separated durin’ a fight or accident or whatever. Monsters are mostly magic and dust. So it’s easy to heal ‘em because the broken apart magic is easy to sew back up. Humans? They’re made of meat, I guess? It’s a lot of stuff that gets in the way of magic. Not many humans have enough magic for themselves to even access, an’ when they do,” Papyrus chuckled humorlessly, “other humans tried to burn or hang them. Sometimes experiment on ‘em, _poor fuckers_. What’s mor—yeOUCH!”

Papyrus jumped away from the wall, a trail of smoke rising from the back of his pants. “What the fuck, Azman? That was a sneak attack.” You blinked. Asgore wore a smug grin as he looked back at your arm. So, Asgore was good with fire magic, eh?

You asked Papyrus if he was okay. When he nodded, grumbling, you then asked if he would open the window before the smoke alarm went off.

* * *

A week had gone by, and you could tell that your ribs were healing pretty well. The left side of your face really had been healed completely. You and Sans wouldn’t match now. Asgore really couldn’t heal your bones completely, but he and Papyrus both figured he’d reduced the time you were supposed to be out of commission. You figured you could go back to work full time a little early, just after New Years. You were planning on coming in for a few hours starting on Wednesday. Papyrus was planning to take you to work, so you wouldn’t have to commute from your family’s home. Not that you had a car, yet, anyways. Turns out he couldn’t just teleport anywhere in the world. He had limits to each port, so it took a couple stops. His limits were also determined by his energy level. If he was particularly depressed or stressed, he could hardly make it ten meters. So, you definitely needed to figure out if you were getting a rental car, or taking whatever used car you could afford after you paid your bills with the insurance you were getting. You had some loose ends to tie up.

Like getting Papyrus to stop walking on eggshells around your family. He understood that they were okay with him now, but he admitted that he'd always been uneasy around previous partners's families, too. You recalled the skittish-looking skeleton you'd met before that first date, that was what he'd reverted back to when he was around your family. They trusted your judgement, especially since you had an overactive spidey sense around men.

Speaking of which, you had another appointment coming up.

“Well, Asexuality is more common than you would expect. It’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not Ace though!” Your interjection was louder than you intended, and you shrunk back in your seat. “At least, I don’t think?” You twisted the tissue in your hands. It barely more than paper shreds at this point.

“I…It’s hard t-to explain…” You couldn’t meet the counsellor/therapist/whatever’s eyes. Her name was Karen. A middle-aged white lady, a little chubby, unassuming as could be. You just couldn’t meet her eyes though.

“You don’t have to explain right now if it’s difficult.”

“I’m kind of…hoping that if I explain it aloud it will make more sense though? It’s like. I’m not. Looking at people and thinking ‘I would like to have s-sex with them’ and I dunno if that’s how it’s supposed to work? I get crushes, and I want to kiss and hold someone and stuff, but…” You trailed off. You weren’t making a good cased for the ‘not Asexual’ argument. Argument? You were only arguing with yourself. And you had been for years.

“I’m scared. I’m scared of a lot of things. Being murdered. Being, you know, again. Most women who get murdered are done in by their spouses, but I’m not scared that, a partner, say, Papyrus, is going to kill me. So why am I so—?” you made a disgruntled noise in place of words. “I’m not scared of him like, murdering me, but then the thought of—of being, being h-hu-hurt like th-that. He wouldn’t do that…I…”

You were lying. No, you didn’t believe Papyrus would ever harm you, but there were moments when he got angry, directed at someone else, sometimes frustrated with you that he just looked so scary. He was still physically capable of harming you. Your deep animal brain took that and ran with it. Just about everyone was capable of hurting you. Yet.

You gave Papyrus a chance. Due to silly reasons, but…it turned out that he was a great guy. He had _many_ faults, but, they sided with yours and you could laugh about each other’s laziness or weird sense of humor. He proved to be worth a shot, you probably loved him by now, but it was so much more casual and comfortable than you expected it to be. Your entire relationship was much more casual and comfortable than you anticipated. It was. So nice.

There was a long silence that passed. Karen wasn’t saying anything. You felt uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…I c-c-cant. Um.” You needed something to fill the silence.

“If you need time, you can take it, or, we could talk about something else?”

You thought for a second.

“Or you can leave a little early, that’s perfectly alright if you’re not comfortable right now.”

You might wanna take her up on that.

“I trust him. I really do, and it bothers me that I get so scared. Even when I have dreams and he’s there,” you cleared your throat, she _probably, hopefully,_ didn't need to know about your fantasies “he’s sweet. That’s why I don’t think I’m ace. I still want to do things with him, but, it’s.” You felt your eyes mist.

“It’s hard. I know that it’s hard for you. If you want to move on to another subject, we can.” You nodded.

“Okay.” You heard her draw in a breath. “You mentioned, that you have bad dreams sometimes.”

You nodded, guilt eating away at you. Poor Sans. Why did you have to dream of him like that? You hadn’t told her the details of the dream. Just that it was a bad dream featuring someone you trusted, and not Papyrus. You’d only had good dreams about Papyrus, as far as you could remember.

“And based on some of your other statements, I think you might be a good candidate for a specialized type of therapy, EMDR.” You looked up, shooting her a quizzical look. You’d never heard of that before.

* * *

You walked down the hall, leaving early from your appointment. You had a thin packet of information with you on _Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing_. It sounded a little hokey up front, but…your anxiety was so high, your panic attacks had only gotten worse over the years and…

You shook your head. You would read over the packet and see if it made enough sense to get started on it. You poked your head around the counter to see Papyrus was not in the seat you left him in. You expected as much. It was a win to get him to step foot into the center after all, you supposed you didn’t really expect him to hang around in the waiting room for an hour, somewhere he seemed scared of. This wasn’t a hospital, per se, but it seemed to make him anxious all the same. He’d probably prefer to smoke outside and play on his phone outside in the snow than wait for you in here.

You thought. For a half-second.

Until you saw him by the appointment desk.

“You know, we actually have a couple Monsters receiving their certification in June.”

“Prolly shouldn’t wait that long,” Papyrus tapped his fingertips on the woman’s desk, tac-tac-tac-tac sounding quietly.

“Okay, our male counsellor is available only on Tuesday mornings right now,” the woman started.

“Why’s gender matter?” Papyrus tilted his head. His voice was soft, genuine.

“Some people prefer seeing someone the same gender as themselves. My apologies for assuming.” The way she said it was with practiced ease.

“Uh, I don’t really care either way,” Papyrus shrugged, “but mornin’s, heh, ain’t my thing.”

A little smile wound it’s way onto your face as Papyrus scheduled an appointment. When he seemed done, you walked up beside him, knocking him with your shoulder playfully before scheduling your next appointment. You smirked at him knowingly once you stuffed your reminder card in your wallet. He pointedly looked away, unwilling to meet your eyes as you tried to send him a look of ‘ _was that so hard?_ ’

“Ya still up for some coffee?” Papyrus asked as you stepped out the door. He’d taken to opening doors for you, but that was only because your arm was still broken at this point. That was the plan for tonight. Drink cheap coffee and munch on candy canes until the sun set, and then meander through the Zoo of Lights until late. You had tomorrow to do your Holiday shopping with your family, so not too late.

“Oh yeah. Only if you don’t dump tobasco in it. I will literally puke peppermint everywhere if I see you doing that, my dude.” Papyrus snorted.

“Aw, but that’s the _perk_ of goin’ to a sit-down place.” Papyrus leaned against your uninjured side.

You rolled your eyes.

“Not one of your better ones.”

“I’m not really givin’ it my best _shot_ though.”

You fought a smile. You laced your fingers together. It felt odd, him having no meat on his palms, but you still liked doing it. It made him blush and grumble. Though the way he squeezed your hand back told you that he loved it, too. He always recovered quickly from his embarrassment. 

“Aw, see, ya love my puns a _latte_. We’re a perfect _blend_ , you an’ me. God damn, where ya _bean_ all my life.” You swatted his shoulder, finally letting a snicker slip through your teeth.

Things were going so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know where to go from here without having it seem dreadfully out-of-of place. We'll see. I might throw something in there that seems out of left field.
> 
> Okay the last line is more ominous than intended, but I like it. Nothing goes horribly wrong from here on out (unless a plot bunny strikes) but there's going to be some...hints...that not everything is going like reader expects.
> 
> Also I know everyone is different, but EMDR? Well, it sounded pretty hokey, but...I'm a lot better than I was.


	13. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping. Lost children. Angry Projecting skeletons. Scar stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THE ART I HAD COMMISSIONED  
> Mention of pedophillia, but you should be used to that by now.

“Why are we even heeeere,” Papyrus whined like a child. You raised your brow, sipping your coffee. It wasn’t that early. And you weren’t a morning person.

“Because they jack up the prices after this,” you answered, staring ahead at the crowd of people before you. Not as many as you feared, but, maybe it was a little on the early side. You needed to shop now, otherwise the stores would raise the prices on their items just to put them on ‘sale’ at barely below regular price, encouraging the crowds of people to trample each other to get their hands on random electronics and whatnot. You didn’t know. You were only here for a few gifts and then some miscellaneous items. You needed a new toothbrush, for instance.

“Okay, yeah, so why am _I_ here?”

You gave him a look.

“Because,” you held up your cast, which Papyrus had signed with a very gracious doodle of a dick you’d needed to scribble out because your boyfriend was _incredibly mature_ , “my arm’s still broken and I need you to lift my crap for me.”

Papyrus stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. Sure, you really only needed him to lift shopping bags into the back of your rental car, but the real reason was…

“Plus, you’re getting something for Sans. I know you haven’t done that yet.” You heard Papyrus growl.

“Ya act like I never get ‘im stuff. I always get ‘im somethin’.”

“He told me that his present didn’t come in until like two weeks after Chri—Gyftmas last year. You don’t go buying stuff online last minute and calling it a present, you know.” Papyrus scoffed. Boy, he sure was grumpy this morning.

“I’ve always taken good care of ‘im, ya know. That kid’s never done without where I could help it. That includes capitalism.”

“Uhhuh,” you said, pulling him by the arm, “now c’mon. I gotta find some new dish towels for my aunt.”

* * *

You were sitting in the shoe department, waiting for Papyrus to collect himself again, him taking slow deep breaths, and you rubbing his back. He wasn’t the only monster you’d known who’d hated crowds. In fact, you’d seen one other monster sat down on the floor earlier, another monster who seemed to be her partner crouched beside her, scratching her behind the ears. With so much of the monster population rarely leaving their homes for fear of violence, people just. Going out and about was never a common occurrence in the underground, you had gathered. There were significantly fewer monsters underground than humans in the city, and you imagined they all just weren’t used to crowds.

Papyrus stood after a little while.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Sooner we get this over with, sooner we can leave.” He stuffed his one hand in his pocket and picked up your basket with the other. You had only been out for about an hour, but he might be right. Your ribs were beginning to hurt after bending down so many times to take a look at the prices of everything. You should probably finish this up quickly. You glanced at your list.

“Okay, my friend back home wanted something new for her collection.”

“What’s she collect?”

“Dolls, the freak. I won’t go into her spare bedroom, it’s freakin’ terrifying.”

“Where the fuck ya gonna find porcelain dolls at a damn Wal-Co?” he scoffed.

“Nah, nah. See, collecting porcelain dolls would be almost normal, this gal collects _dolls_. Barbies, Polly Pockets, Bratz, Cabbage Patch Kids, commercialized dolls. Like. It’s truly a horror show.” You watched Papyrus’s mental processing literally halt, and you saw a concerned expression cross his face. You expected his next words to be something along the lines of ‘ _and why are you friends with this person?’_ but his next sentence was not at all what you were expecting.

“Take yer basket fer a sec.” You raised a puzzled brow as you took the basket in your right hand. You blinked, realizing he was staring past you, off to the side, at something. You turned your head in the direction he’d been looking, before he crossed your vision to walk in that direction. You realized what he’d spotted in an instant. A tiny monster stood against a wall, one hand clutched in the front of a striped dress, the other arm covering their eyes. They looked up as Papyrus approached, crouching down to the monster’s level. Your heart sped as you remembered that stripes meant “child” in monster culture, and it urged your feet forward to follow behind your boyfriend to the little monster. They had been crying, you deciphered from the wet streaks down their cheeks as you approached. Your head whipped around, looking for where their parents might be. You spotted a monster looking through handbags, but she was greyish and bird-like, while this child had a scaly purple tail curled in front of their legs fearfully.

“Wha’s yer name, little guy?” Papyrus spoke softly to the little monster.

“I’m not cryin’ ya effin’ t-t-twat!” The little monster spat, sucking snot back into their nose. Such hard language for such a little kid. From the sound of their voice, they were probably under seven years old.

“Coulda fooled me,” Papyrus smiled with a snort, “I’m Papyrus. Where’s yer folks?”

“Ain’t g-g-got none. Jus-just my big stupid sister! She saw some guy an’ left me b-behind!” With that, the little monster was crying again, wiping tears away from all four of their eyes. You crouched down beside the little monster, only for them to stop immediately as they noticed you. Their expression changed, though you couldn’t decipher to what emotion.

“What’s your sister look like?” You asked, softly. Strangely, the child curled their tail tighter around themselves and…scooted closer to Papyrus. Papyrus blinked and glanced over at you.

“This is my girlfriend, she’s…” Papyrus trailed off as child shook their head.

“What’s yer sister look like? What’s ‘er name?” Papyrus looked back at the child.

“She’s Marin and I’m Uric. She looks like me but with two eyes and red scales.”

“What’s she wearing?” You asked. The little boy glared. He looked at Papyrus.

“She wears overalls. Black ones. And a blue shirt.”

“Okay, then,” you looked at your skeletal boyfriend, “Papyrus, why don’t you look for her, and I’ll stay back with Uric.” You heard a little growling sound. The little monster had clutched onto Papyrus’s sleeve and was trying to hide himself from you. You blinked.

“Uh, kiddo. She’s—”

“Humans are bad! Don’t you effing leave me with her!” You and Papyrus exchanged a look, you surprised, him unamused.

“Okay, I’ll stay with the little guy, and you go look fer Marin.” The statement was so soft, unassuming but for some reason a spike of terror ran through you. It passed quickly, as you stood and left your basket with Papyrus. Papyrus was a good guy. It didn’t stop the gross feeling that crept around your soul at the initial thought of leaving a _man_ alone with a _child_. You had thought the child would feel more comfortable with a woman, but he probably had a few good reasons to be concerned about humans, obviously feeling more comfortable with another monster, notwithstanding of presenting gender.

Not all men were pedophiles, but enough of them were, and enough of them had abused you personally that you had to assume all of them _could_ be. You shook your head at the thought. Lots of people had men in their lives, fathers, uncles, coaches, pastors, etc. that were good and wonderful with them, but you…even the men you had a normal relationship with growing up, you still thought, somewhere in the back of your head…that they just didn’t have enough opportunity to groom you, and that, given enough time alone with them, they would have abused you too.

Papyrus had seemed so furious at the thought that someone would hurt you, especially as a child, that someone would _do_ that to a child, that…well, if he were ever in prison, he’d probably be one of those to do in the _disgusting bastards_ locked up in the same cell block. At least, that’s what the anger you saw from him reminded you of. Not to mention he and the kid were in the middle of a store.

You trotted from aisle to aisle, department to department, looking for a monster that matched little Uric’s description. Papyrus told you that Uric had last seen his sister while browsing the toys, so you checked there and all the nearby areas. After long enough, you were having no luck of it, and you smacked your forehead. You’d just go to a security guard and ask them to give staff a heads up to look for the kid. You ran around the front, looking for staff member. To your surprise, when you finally found a security guard, you found a monster standing before him, black and rose-printed overalls, blue shirt and red tail thumping the ground behind her.

“C’mon! He’s just a little kid, you gotta put an announcement out,” you heard her voice pleading.

“Well, if you _monsters_ would just watch your twerps, rather than let them roam around and cause trouble,” he rolled his eyes. You bristled at his tone. He’d been using ‘monster’ as an insult. Not to stereotype, but a middle-aged white guy with a shaved head, he definitely looked like the kind of guy you always encountered with those sorts of sentiments.

“He’s six years old!”

“Are you looking for Uric?” You asked, jogging up behind the girl. She whipped her head around, looking like an older version of her brother, but with just the one set of eyes.

“Oh my god, you know where he is?”

“The shoe department, my boyfriend’s with him.” She followed closely behind you, though you could see that she was still wary of you, right up until she spotted Papyrus sitting against the wall beside her brother. He was so wrapped up in what Papyrus was talking about (sounded like they were talking about video games) he didn’t even notice his sister until she was two meters from him. She scooped him up, holding his little form to her chest.

“I told you to stay close, you little brat.” She set him on her hip.

“Thanks for finding me,” she said, turning to walk off as Papyrus stood.

“Hold up, girly,” Papyrus said, and you jumped. Papyrus’s expression looked off from what you expected. Pissed. He set both his hands in his pockets.

“Just what the hell do ya think ya was doin’ takin’ yer eyes offa little kid like that? Ya got any fuckin clue what can happen ta little monsters ‘round these parts?”

“Excuse the fuck outta me?” She whipped her head around, glaring back at Papyrus. Uh oh.

“Ya heard me. Yer the big siblin’, an yer all this kid’s got. Ya got a duty to protect him. an ya just up an walk away from ‘im like that?”

“Jesus fuck, you old shit. I took my eyes off him for two seconds. The fuck you know?”

“Old shit?! Listen here, I can’t stand to watch irresponsible little twerps like you get put in charge of kiddos like that. You _have_ to watch them. By bein’ an older siblin’, ya got the utmost duty to protect yer brother. How would you feel if ya couldn’t find ‘im, eh? If some specist human motherfuckers got a wild hair up their ass, they’d see the kid, an guess what, he’s fuckin’ dust. Y’ever think ‘bout that?” You slapped a hand on Papyrus’s chest, trying to push him back. The child was right there! He didn’t need to hear this, either!

“Papyrus!”

“OF COURSE I thought about it! I was freaked the fuck out!” She stamped a foot. Taking a defensive posture. She held her brother’s head against her chest.

“If you think for a second I wasn’t scared outta my fuckin’ mind, just losing the kid in a goddamn store then—Of course I know I’m all he’s got. You can’t be that hard up about humans seeing as you got one hanging of your arm. You don’t know shit, you prick!”

“I know more than you—”

“SHE’S JUST A KID, PAPYRUS!” You growled over Papyrus. You looked back at the girl. She met your eyes for a moment. She couldn’t have been older than 20. She huffed, straightening her back. She tilted her chin up.

“Yeah, I got better things to do than get lectured by some old fuck. Later, gramps.” You saw Papyrus’s mouth open for a rebuttal, but you slapped your hand over his mouth. You glared up at him. He looked between you and the girl walking off. He let out a sigh with his growl. You saw a couple human spectators from around the corner of an aisle. You didn’t want to make a scene. You knew it wouldn’t end well.

* * *

You had intended to drive Papyrus home, and then drive back to your family’s, but you were too mentally exhausted from the thing at the store that you’d decided to spend the night back at your house. You didn’t really have anything worth stealing at your studio, all your electronics were in your bedroom back with your family, so unless a burglar was a bookworm you weren’t worried about break-ins.

You hadn’t spoken a word to Papyrus since you were both checking out, including the random doll you’d grabbed as you passed through the toy aisle. You were sure your jaw was fixed in a scowl as you started driving. It was a silent drive until—

“Feet off the dash,” you commanded, “this is a rental.”

“Sure, _mom_.” Papyrus slid his feet down to their rightful place in the floorboards. Why was he acting so childishly?

“Hey, where we headed? Ya missed the highway entrance.”

“I was gonna drive you home then head back to my family’s but…Papyrus, I’m exhausted. You mind if we head back to my studio?”

“Sure.” There was a pause.

“I got carried away,” he said at last.

“Did you just figure that out?”

“No,” he huffed, “It’s just…Ya know I pretty much raised Sans, right? From the time I was 15 or 16, right?”

“Just like that girl, huh?” You didn’t take your eyes off the road. You had guessed as much. When he saw Marin losing Uric, he probably saw himself and Sans, when they were much younger.

“And you _never_ lost track of Sans, hm? I know you were—are a great brother, and you probably worried over Sans a lot when you were kids, but that doesn’t mean you can yell at some girl. She was probably scared enough.” It was quiet for a few seconds.

“sans got that scar ‘cuz of me…” his voice was soft, almost a whisper. You blinked, pondering over his words. Scar? Did he mean the one over his left eye? You thought scars weren’t a big deal…wait…

_‘cuz of me…_

Was…was the scar a result of…Papyrus said that their parent hadn’t managed to lay a finger on Sans while Papyrus was protecting him. Was that a lie?

“I wasn’t watching him,” he continued, “I was supposed to pick him up from school. He got fuckin’ jumped. The brat didn’t run like I told him, he picked a fight, got his ass handed to him. His eye was fuckin’ demolished and…”

“Bad shit happens to kids when they’re left alone to defend themselves.” He took in a deep breath. “You know that just as well as I do.” You swallowed thickly. You were still mad about his behavior at the store but the anger had faded.

“But he came out of it okay? Just the scar.”

“No. He was blinded in that eye.” Your eyes widened. You took a deep breath. You hadn’t noticed he was blind in that eye. He still had the eyelight, even if, as Papyrus said, it was blind.

“I gave him mine.”

“What?”

“My eye. I gave him my eye. He was left-handed, so losing a left eye, well, his magic would have suffered.”

“So, wait, what? You have both of yours.” You blinked. He had both of his eyelights, tiny pinpricks of light that they were. Though…The glimpse of him that you’d had, the night he’d woken up during the storm, you thought you’d only seen magic sparking up from his right side…was…

“Ah, the lights’re an illusion. I can’t see out of it, and my magic on my left side’s fucked. He was just a kid, though. He needed the magic more than I did.”

You took a deep breath.

“Papyrus, I…I can’t know how you feel, for sure, but I am so sorry that the two of you have…been through so much.” You paused, unsure of what to say. “But, you projecting your fears onto that girl and her brother like that?”

“I know, it was fucked up.”

“Yeah, it was. But Papyrus?”

“Hm?”

“You were, really good with that kid. You seemed to keep him calm really well.”

“Oh, I uh,” you glanced over to him. He was smiling, ever-so-slightly.

“I like kids, I guess.”

“Do you really?” You smiled. Then maybe don't talk about them dusting where they can hear you.

“Yeah? I used to think I didn’t but, I raised Sans, after all, and then when Chara fell…well. You didn’t see a lot of kids in the underground. Parents are overprotective for, uh, obvious reasons. If they weren’t at school, they was in their homes. I kinda wanna know what it’s like to have kids. Being pregnant, having a little mini-monster inside me, gettin’ kicked in the ribs, holding a baby, all that mushy shit seems kinda nice when I think about it.”

You laughed a little. You were a little uncomfortable. Although it was a nice topic, it wasn’t necessarily something you wanted to discuss with your boyfriend, not this soon in the relationship. Especially since monsters and humans couldn’t reproduce together. Their souls were too different. You'd have to adopt if this turned long-term.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you can get pregnant, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Uh, what?” Papyrus’s voice sounded puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be able ta get pregnant?”

You blinked. Your eyes were focused on the slow as hell granny in front of you.

“Because…you’re a guy…?”

“Yeah an—oh wait a minute. Right, humans're weird. Gender doesn’t matter a whole hell of a lot ta skeletons? We can all get pregnant.”

Oh. Well. That’s different. Now you were _really_ uncomfortable. Any anger you had over the incident was gone, although you still wouldn’t let Papyrus forget it.

A minute went by, and you pulled up to your driveway, when Papyrus burst out laughing.

“You should see your face, holy shit.”

“Shut up!” You were blushing in embarrassment by now. You parked your car and got one of your bags while Papyrus grabbed the others. When the two of you were inside, Papyrus asked if he could keep the gift he got for Sans hidden in your closet until Gyfmas. You nodded, crumpling onto your couch. When Papyrus finished stuffing everything in your closet, he came over to the couch and ruffled your hair.

“That’s what I love about ya, yer so genuine.” You flushed. He’d used the “L” word. You had too, but only between yourself and your therapist. When you looked up, he had a dusting of color over his cheekbones, too.

“Actually, uh,” he set a hand on the back of the couch, “I said some shit about humans recently that uh…I ever mention why I liked ya so much? I mean, this is awkward as shit and I dunno how ta say it without soundin’ uh…”

“Why you liked me, despite me being human?”

He blinked. He looked relieved, you weren’t upset.

“Yeah, that.” He hopped over the back of your couch, settling in a little bit aways from you.

“You wanted ta see yer soul, right? It’s easiest ta show ya.” You nodded. You had always wanted to see it. You’d kept forgetting to ask him about it. He gave you a sideways kind of smile in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well I started to write the next scene into this chapter but I got hungry and just cut it, because I can only write a chapter in one sitting. 
> 
> What happened to the cool boyfriend Reader once had? Guess what? The rose-colored glasses have lifted and now she's seeing him for the aggressive loser nerd he really is. (Or bad characterization, you decide). Also, funnily enough, I can't keep my headcanons for this story and my comic separate so? They're going to be divergent comic-canons. Like, they actually kinda go together. How Sans Busted his eye is the same in both this and Wrath and Resolve. https://get-dunked-on.tumblr.com/post/175432430079/papyrus-went-through-some-really-fishy-dealings-in
> 
> Also, about the "Watch your kids" thing. This was said by my Old White Male(tm) Alabamian Uncle about a specific minority. Like. Doooo you realize my family is not white? People like this just boggle my mind.


	14. Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus draws out your soul, and...one thing leads to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me why my smut chapters are usually twice as long as my others.
> 
> Content warning: Blowjobs, very slight mention of childhood sexual abuse.
> 
> The picture is just a random ms paint doodle I made.

It was finally your chance to take a look at your soul. It wasn’t a huge deal or anything, plenty of humans got to see theirs during certain medical appointments. _Damn, you wonder if you could have seen it while you were in the hospital._ It didn’t matter, because you’d get the chance, now. You were really curious. Red, Orange, Gold, Yellow, Green, Teal, Cyan, Blue, Navy, Indigo, Purple, Violet, Magenta. At this time, those 13 known colors could appear in various combinations and saturations within a soul which showcased an individual’s character. There was technically a fourteenth color, but black tended to be more of a tint to other colors than one of its own. You couldn’t exactly remember which color traits meant what, but you could always look it up later.

Oh wait.

What did your soul have to do with…huh…that wasn’t ominous at all.

“Ready?” He asked, reaching out a hand towards you. You nodded, and his hand hovered a foot or so from the center of your chest.

“Might feel weird if ya’ve never had it done before,” he warned, before curling his fingers and _tugging._ Holy shit. That did feel weird. Not painful or anything, but as you watched your soul slip out of your clothes, you suddenly felt so…empty. And not. This is a different sort of out-of-body experience than you’ve had before. You were so transfixed on trying to put the weirdness of the feeling into words, that for a few moments, you didn’t even register that he was cradling your soul in his hand. It was floating just above the bones that made up his palm.

You blinked, finally directing your gaze to the object he held out to you. Your soul.

"Oh," you said, finally studying the colors within the bulbous little heart shape.

"This is why," he said, tipping the soul back for him to see better, "different seeing it in person like this, huh." He grinned.

The colors swirled around inside the shape, slowly, never mixing. A silent little dance of swirling lights, but, not quite lights. They almost looked liquid, like introducing oil into water. Your soul looked like a bizarre little lava lamp, you realized.

"The thing about the colors in human souls," he began to explain, "is that as folks get older, the traits start to wash out, lose their shine, lose their brightness. It gets harder to tell a person's true character that way." He offered your soul to you.

You tilted your head, allowing him to transfer your soul into your own palms. So, what, you could have pastel colors in there? Yours were bright and shiny. Dots of spring green and a tumbling swirl of purple flowed around within the heart-shaped vessel.

"I'm still a pretty young person, you know."

"Doesn't matter, by the time most humans get to be sixteen, seventeen, there's already some fading."

You swallowed thickly.

"So what does it mean when they're bright?"

"Y'ain't tryin' to deceive anyone, for one thing." His words snapped you out of your examination of the colors. That's. No, that's not true. You'd been hiding things your whole life. You'd kept secrets, you omitted information, you'd tried so hard not letting anyone know the real you. You hated yourself too much, and you knew that if anyone got the chance to see the real you, then they would hate you t--

"Stop that," he said with a snort. "I can see exactly what's goin' on in yer head, sweetheart, and trust me, you're an open book. I think the phrase is like 'wearin' yer heart on yer face' or some shit.” (Did he mean ‘ _wear your heart on your sleeve?’)_ “And it's exactly what ya do. When traits are activated, they shine brighter, and yours are already plain as--"

You shook your head and curled in on yourself slightly. You heard Papyrus sigh. He scratched his skull thoughtfully.

"Deceit ain't as clear cut as ya think. It means yer doin' somethin' to harm others, not ta protect yerself. Lemme show you somethin'." He reached out towards you, and you unfurled your palm, which you hadn't even realized was guarding your soul against your chest. Caging it in.

"Green," he said, "is kindness. That night ya picked us up after that fight, I'd never seen a green so bright. It was almost blinding." You looked up then, finally meeting his eyesockets. He was grinning, knowingly. Oh shit. Oh shiiiiiiit. Nope. Nope. Nope. This slimy bastard. Was he confessing to something? Because your face was feeling really hot and you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"Papyrus," you said, face aflame. He shrugged, doing that little almost-chuckle he always did.

"I thought it was interestin', that's for sure, but I knew ya wasn't lookin' ta hurt us for one thing." He glanced down at your soul.

"Whether ya know it or not, yer a huge softie. Ya didn't even kill that spider ya trapped under that cup, ya giant marshmallow." He shoved against your shoulder, and you snorted. Okay, the spider thing was mainly because you didn't feel like cleaning up spider guts, but point taken. Although, your anxiety was dreadful, crippling sometimes, that didn't mean that your idiot reflexes didn't immediately go to helping out someone else. You definitely weren’t the kindest person, though.  People pissed you off from time to time, so you weren't sure how accurate of an assessment that was. You hadn’t really chewed anyone out too thoroughly, but damn had you wanted to sometimes.

"And purple?"

"Perseverance."

"Perseverance?"

"It means ya stick around fer..." He trailed off, "the long haul..." His expression changed, and to what, you couldn't decipher. You sat up a little straighter, trying to dissolve the sudden tension you felt.

"If you think I'm good at follow-through, you should see all the novels I've started and never finished, because. There's a lot. I'm actually pretty shit at seeing things to the end." Papyrus made a face, sitting back further.

"Sweetheart. You've been through a ton of shit, and ya stuck it out. Yer strong as fuck." You frowned.

"You're wrong about that, too."

"I don't think I am." He was watching you from the corner of his eyesocket, his barely-there pinpricks of light fixed on your face while his face stared off towards your curtains.

No. He was wrong. Everytime you heard an update from a friend, it was always the same. So-and-so bought a house. So-and-so got married. So-and-so is traveling abroad. So-and-so is having a baby. You were so far behind everyone else. Even those you knew the histories of. Mirabelle confided in you about the pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage when she was 12, her abusive stepfather's child. She settled down with a husband, and they have a toddler together. Adriana was homeless most of her childhood. She just bought a nice house, making bank with full use of her Master's degree. Kristen was live-chirping from Italy, where her wife's family was from.

You can hardly go on MyFace because you see the faces of girls who went through some of what you have, out there living their lives. Moving to Australia, buying houses, having children, dancing on their abuser's graves, _forgiving their abusers_ (which is something you would never do). Maybe they're broken inside, but they at least manage the _appearance_ of normality, of coping. You couldn't even do that much, even if it's all an act. You always resent phrases about how strong, how kind, how confident, energetic, optimistic, you are. Your MyFace page was nearly blank, because you had nothing to offer the world. Nothing optimistic. Nothing wonderful going on with you.

You didn't compare to any of them. They all turned out okay. You weren't okay. You weren't normal. They were strong, not you. Not by a long shot.

"Strong enough ta put up with my bullshit," he muttered, drawing your gaze back to him. There was something in his gaze, something quivering, fluttering nervously, like a bird approached by a cat. Vulnerable. He was looking for something, too. Asking for something, some sort of reassurance.

"I knew from that night at Shari's that you'd..." he gestured with his hands, before giving up, running his hands down his face.

"This uh," he chuckled, his voice too high. Nervous. "Was a disaster." Your heart clenched. Well, actually, it was probably your soul. You felt a slight pulse in the air surrounding it, the colors washing over each other like a wave crashing over the rock barrier down towards the marina.

You had never asked Papyrus about his previous relationships. You hadn't really wanted him asking pressing questions about your past, and you hadn't thought much about it once your 'past' was out in the open. For the very first time, you thought that maybe, maybe, Papyrus hadn't had the best run of luck with relationships. Was it things like...like the nightmares, that were a turn-off to other partners? You knew he'd had sexual partners. He'd hinted at enough monsters brought home from bars, but you also knew that you'd been the first partner he'd exposed his soul to. Ever. He'd only showed it to you after you'd seen him in a bad state. After you'd seen him trembling and crying. Exposing weakness wasn't something that monsters had done underground.

_'The mad dog.'_

That'd been another of his nicknames underground. Everyone had thought he'd been crazy. He'd said that you had been one of the very few to believe his story of his past. Who had the others been? Had they been partners of his or?

Was no one willing to persist. Persevere. To stay by his side despite all of that? This was...

"I don't think so." You leaned up to peck his temple. "I got to finally see my soul," you smiled at him. He snorted, lifting his hand to ruffle your hair, managing to dissolve the solemn turn to the mood. He traced your jaw, tilting your head to press his mouth against yours. You don't know why, but you started to giggle like some schoolgirl when he leaned away from you.

"You're weird," he said, a crooked smile tilting his mandible. You rolled your eyes. Looking down at your soul, a thought finally crossed into your consciousness.

"Wait, can all monsters see human's souls? You said you could see the colors even before you knew me. Are all human souls just...there on display for monsters?" He blinked.

"Ah, no. That's, uh, pretty much just me." You watched his shoulders hunch. He made a motion like he was swallowing down thick syrup.

"Wait, really? How is it just you?"

"Uh," he looked off to the side, and you realized he was getting fidgetty. Nervous. Whatever the reason,  it seemed to be a sore subject.

"Don't really know fer sure? I can just see souls, monster, human, animal. Dunno, it's just been like that long as I can remember?"

"That's--"

"Weird? Don't I fuckin' know it. But it's whatever," he shrugged. "A kind of gift."

"Like teleportation," you added.

"Like that. And the Duke of Too-Big Britches always landin' on his feet like some fuckin' cat."

You smiled. You looked back down to your soul, chancing a finger against the surface.

A shiver ran straight down your spine. That felt nothing like you expected it to. It was like being dipped into warm water with the touch of your fingertip. Was it unpleasant? You couldn't tell. It was unfamiliar and strange, that was for sure. You touched it again, gently, and felt that warm sensation again, in your belly, spreading out towards your chest. It wasn't like you were actually even feeling it, more like...a memory of a feeling? Like the first time you'd ever been shocked by a faulty wire, but not. Because it wasn't painful. It was all kinds of feelings wrapped up into one.

You sort of wondered...You began thinking hard on good memories, things that made you happy while brushing your fingertips against your own soul. It worked exactly as you thought it might, as a sort of feedback loop of good feelings. You felt more joy and contentment from the happy memories than you had just trying to bring up the memories of happiness that the mental images stirred up. You noticed Papyrus was raising a brow, giving you a strange look.

"What?" You asked.

"Careful with that. If ya get any negative emotions while yer doin' that, they might crop up as nightmares. Believe me, self-soothing works the first coupla times, after that, you're fucked."

"I see...so that's why you like letting me touch your soul, because it's harder to do for yourself."

He shrugged.

 _So, the exact opposite of masturbating, you thought_ , whimsically. No sooner had you had that thought than a spike of...something, went up your spine. It felt good, warm, that electric sensation again, only more. The feeling settled in your belly, rather than emerging from it. That feeling had been different from the previous ones, it almost felt like...

Your face flushed brightly, releasing your hold on your soul at the realization of what you had accidentally done. With your boyfriend sitting right next to you. You swallowed thickly, looking back down at your soul. That's right. Monsters reproduced using their souls. Monsters could have some sort of intimacy using their souls. While humans couldn't reproduce using theirs...they could still stimulate a partner. You'd done things to Papyrus's soul. Made him feel good, trembling, panting under your watchful gaze. It was an exhilarating feeling, and it was something different.

You remembered your first thoughts on the concept. The idea that you could experience some form of intimacy, romantic, sexual intimacy, without him putting his hands on you. Without him causing you pain, without laying yourself out there, showing that kind of vulnerability...it just...As a concept, in theory, it shouldn't trigger anything in you. It was so different from what you had been socialized around, what you'd experienced, that when you thought about it, your brain didn't try to shut down or shy away from the thought. It was so different. In all the ways you had been abused, all the things you'd been forced to do, this hadn't been one of them. This was a completely new and foreign concept. So different from the human understanding of sex and intimacy. Yet it wasn't.

This was a completely new and foreign concept. So different from the human understanding of sex and intimacy. Yet it wasn't.

It was still intimacy, and it would still...

Your cheeks were burning brightly. You looked up when Papyrus stifled a laugh. He was looking in your direction, a wide grin on his face, a browbone raised.

"What?" you choked out. Your throat felt dry all of a sudden.

"Nothin', nothin'," he laughed. Your cheeks heated more. He seemed to change his mind as he leaned back towards you. "Why's lookin' at a soul always make ya horny, eh, sweetheat?" His voice was level, not dripping with intent like you might have expected, only just teasing. You felt a spike of fear flare in your belly, but the warmth that flared in your chest quashed it down. He was right, wasn't he? Even in the times you had just wanted to make him calm down from a hard day, you’d accidentally sent a spike of arousal to him. It was embarrassing, wasn't it? Well, surely it was, but...

"Can I see your soul, too?" The words slipped through your lips in a whisper, and you weren't sure it you actually said it aloud. If not for Papyrus's reaction, you'd be certain you hadn't. He blinked, cheekbones tinting with magic, just barely. A different sort of smile, somewhat unsure, somewhat eager. He ducked his head down to yours, nearly pressing his forehead against yours.

"Ya sure ya want that, doll?"

You blinked, hesitating.

"It's not like, I'd, uh, get pregnant or..." You trailed off. Papyrus's expression changed for a moment, something sad. It was almost too quick for you to catch before his expression returned to what it'd been before. What was that for..?

"No...I'm up for it, but only if yer sure." His eyesockets were so close to yours, there was no mistaking the little eyelights within them. The right, you noticed, for the very first time, flickered and wavered like a candle's flame, or a twinkling star, while the left remained solid, stagnant. Why had you never noticed it before? He really was blind in that eye, wasn't he? It was after a second of that observation that you finally registered his question.

"I..." you croaked. The fear in your belly flared up again. It swarmed up through your chest, leaving your limbs feeling cold. Nothing installed doubt quite like being asked if you were sure of something--when moments before you had been certain that you were ready. Using your souls...it would be different from the way he would need to...but it might still raise up the same sort of feelings you'd experienced long before. If you became overwhelmed because it was too similar to the spikes of unwanted, confusing pain and pleasure you'd experienced, would you panic? Would you cry? Would you hit him, would you lay there, catatonic while he tried to apologize for things which weren't his fault? You pulled away from him ever so slightly, and he sighed, finally breaking his gaze.

"I's okay, sweets," he said, stroking your hair. His hand pressed against the back of yours, and you allowed him to press your soul back inside your body. You were somewhat surprised by how whole you felt again. You forgot that you had felt empty before, but now you felt inner peace, rather than in pieces.

"I wasn't done with it," you mumbled, like a sulking child.

"I know," he shrugged, "I can let ya see it again."

"Papyrus," you huffed, "I hate that you're so good to me." That got a snort out of him.

"I could start leavin' my dirty socks all over yer house, if ya want me ta be worse."

You shook your head. With your soul returned to you, you realized that you were still, kinda...no, very horny. Maybe you could just ask to see his soul again? Without your own or...Well...You pressed your knees together. You had always had wanted to do other things. Other things that didn't involve him touching you. Where you...You felt disturbed remembering the salty taste on your lips, but that didn't shake your fantasies. The ones where you pushed Papyrus onto his back--or, frankly any of the faceless men in your head. Made them feel good. Technically, you'd already done this sort of thing with his soul, so...You swallowed thickly. Your throat still felt dry.

Both your hands, now empty of your soul, reached up to cradle Papyrus's cheekbones as you yanked him forward for a kiss. You nearly cringed when your cast bumped into the bone. You hoped that hadn't hurt him. He made a noise, surprised, but it didn't last as you kissed him again, again, again. His hand came to the back of your head and your jaw, holding you just as much as you were him, until you had your fill of him. He broke first, tucking his thumb in the corner of your mouth to separate you.

"H-hey now." He was breathless. So were you. You turned your head slightly, keeping his gaze as you wrapped your lips around his digit. Your tongue played along the hard surface, the smooth texture. You watched his eyelights waver, scanning your face. He chuckled, a half grin coming to his face, although it was forced. You could tell.

"Sweetheart, please," he mouthed a word, but his voice didn't come.

"I want to do something else, even if it's not with your soul," you said around his thumb.

"L-like what?" He knew. He had to.

"Guess." You ran your tongue around the phalange in your lips.

"Ya sure yer sure?"

"I am."

You were back on him, using your weight to press him back into the couch. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your good hand taking hold of the cast since you couldn't bend that wrist. One of his hands drifted down to hold your waist. He broke from your smattering of kisses to wink at you.

"Lead the way," he said. Your face was so warm, and your brain was spiraling, but you were still doing a fair job keeping that scared little voice at bay. You were in control. He wasn't even touching you inappropriately. He wasn't going to hurt you. You, however, were going to make him feel good.

You buried your head in the fluffy hood, breathing in. Okay, he still smelled like cigarettes, but there was something pleasant underneath that odor. You laid kisses along his cervical vertebrae. Your tongue stroked the places where the bones met. Your left arm left his neck to slide down his shoulder, down his ribs, playing along the spaces between the bone. Your hand fell to his hip, and you felt him jerk into your touch. You followed his pelvis to the front of his jeans where...

You made a noise of questioning. All you felt was hard bone. You expected _hard_ , but not like that. There was nothing there.

"Give it a minute."

He laughed.

"Or, if ya happen to like pussy, I could do that instead." What? Well, he had mentioned that he could carry a child, you supposed since he was constructed from magic, he really could force whichever shape he preferred.

"No, no, uh," Although...maybe another time. "Please don't use that word."

"What, _pussy_?" He had that stupid, knowing edge to his voice. You lifted your face back to his. He'd have a harder time embarrassing you with your tongue in his mouth.

Your left hand bunched up his sweater, forcing a bend into his back as you kissed him harder. He made a sound. Good sound, you decided. Your hand was under his sweater then, pushing it up under his arms. Your fingers gently drifted across his bare ribs, feeling the varying texture between porous and smooth. You squeezed on his first floating rib and Papyrus broke the kiss. You were momentarily worried you had hurt him until his hand clasped your own and squeezed.

"Tighter," he urged. You squeezed. His eyes fluttered shut. Curious, you scraped your nails against the bone. He moaned. You weren't sure what to do with this information.

Go with it, you supposed. You leaned forward, letting your lips ghost over his collarbone before nipping it gently.

Just like your dreams, you thought, flushing warmer. His collarbone had more give than you expected, you bit down a little harder and could feel your incisors leaving impressions. You sure hoped that would heal. The sound he made in response was somewhere between a low growl and a groan. You realized that his body was actually quite a bit different from a biology lab skeleton. He had more ribs, his bones had a little bit of give, like they might within a living creature, full of living collagen. He felt so _alive_.

You looked down through his bared pelvic cavity, seeing that warm red-orange color of his magic shifting within. You pressed your tongue into his sternum as your left arm went for the top button of his jeans. He huffed, stirring your hair. You could feel something had changed now, something filled your palm as you groped for zipper. It wasn’t easy with a cast on. You shifted away from him, so you could see what you were doing and switching hands. You backed a little ways off your futon, onto the floor below. The man didn’t wear underwear, but, then again, he didn’t normally have anything _down_ there so…The fly came down and you lifted your hands for the top of his pants, wanting to drag them off.

“Uh, wait, uh…” you looked up. Papyrus wore as bright blush, and you could tell he was already beginning to sweat.

“Leave them on?” He was hesitant.

“Why?” The question was so simple, but Papyrus looked like he’d been smacked. His eyes were darting around, trying to find the answer in the air.

“Just…because…”his voice trailed off. He wasn’t… _shy_ , was he? He, who made dirty jokes as easy as breathing, who joked about death and gore as if it were nothing. He who didn’t have any trouble walking around without a shirt on, or here, with his sweater pushed up to his armpits, fly down, girl by his crotch, didn’t want to expose his _legs?_ It was just bones. You flushed. You supposed you all had your different comfort levels.

You nodded, returning your attention to the task at hand. _Literally_. You tried not to think about it too much as you wrapped your hand around the length, hot to the touch and buzzing with magic the way his tongue did. It was softer than you expected, but maybe he wasn’t completely hard yet. You pulled his member from his pants, hearing Papyrus’s breathing above everything else. Translucent and the same color as his magic, which you expected, but you hadn’t considered that it would be absent of veins or foreskin. Even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect, you were itching to feel him nonetheless.

 _Would it taste salty?_ You remembered the taste of salted mushrooms, of thin syrup, and it stirred something terrible inside you. You did your best to quash those memories down. You hated that you wanted this. But you didn’t. Because you did want this. You wanted him to feel good. Wanted that soft texture on your tongue, that heat in your mouth. You shouldn’t know these things. _A child shouldn’t know these things._

Without allowing any more time for your thoughts to run amok, you let your fingertips drift over him as you place a kiss at the tip. Your useless left hand you placed on the curve of his ilium, allowing your right hand free range. You placed kisses against the tip as your tongue came into the mix. You prodded the place where the head met the shaft, you heard a soft sound from above you. _That’s it,_ you thought. You were here in the moment, making Papyrus feel good. Any negative thoughts could go fuck themselves. You kissed along one side, tongue sliding across the smooth pseudo-skin with more pressure. Your hand slid towards the tip as you kissed down the base, where the magic coalesced around the pubic symphysis. Your thumb rubbed across the tip and you noticed a drop of precum smoothed under your thumb. He was functionally similar to a human, at least.

You smoothed your tongue back up towards the head, drawing it into your mouth. You felt his knees shift, spreading apart. You were squeezing at the base, wrapping your tongue and lips around the head, prodding the tip, tasting the precum—or at least you would if it had a taste. You didn’t know if you felt disappointed with that. You pulled more into your mouth, pressing against the underside with your tongue, careful of your teeth. Another rumbling groan from Papyrus, along with something whispered you didn’t quite catch. You pulled pack to the tip, kissing the side of the head wetly. You glanced to the side when you went back down, Papyrus’s fist was clenched in the fabric of his pants.

You thought you had figured out what you were doing, but as you went, you thought it was taking a long time. You tried to focus on the feeling of the magic in your mouth, the smooth texture, the little noises Papyrus made, the hitches in his breath. You paused to wipe some drool from your chin, and you made the mistake of meeting Papyrus’s eyes for the first time. His expression was serene, eyes half opened, his heavy breaths and the tint to his features the only indicators of your activities. Your face flushed with color. You diverted your eyes, giving his member two firm strokes.

“I’m doing this wrong,” you mumbled.

“Nah, sweets,” he said, his voice low.

“I’m not very good at this.” You looked back up. He shifted his position slightly.

“It’s yer first time doin’ this,” he said, trying to be reassuring. Whatever fragile ego you had crumbled. ~~It actually, kinda, wasn’t~~. That was confirmation enough that you were doing a piss-poor job giving your first ~~consensual~~ blowjob. You swallowed thickly, looking back to your hand, resting against his dick, just kind of gripping it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You heard him chuckle.

“I could show ya?” he said, right index finger just barely rubbing along the back of your hand. Embarrassed nearly to death, you nodded.

“Squeeze a little tighter,” he instructed, wrapping his hand around yours, making your fingers grip more firmly. He adjusted your left hand to squeezing on his lumbar vertebrae, the cast actually serving to protect your hand from some of the bumps of the bone. He liked it a little rougher, he indicated, and you were glad to see his flush had deepened as he instructed you—you weren’t the only one embarrassed. You listened closely, despite your pulse rushing through your ears. Next time you did this, you wanted to get it right so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself.

“Mn, there ya go,” he breathed, sinking back into your couch. You did what he had shown you, focusing on that, and focusing on his soft sounds of pleasure. Your embarrassment aside, the sounds he made were…nice. You enjoyed the little squeak when you dug your thumbnail between two vertebrae. You scraped with your teeth—something you had been afraid to do—and he moaned. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were breathing heavily through your nose, blowing out against the cooling saliva on his cock.

“Yeah, fuck,” he groaned. “Good girl,” he said, both hands clenched into fists, one in his pantleg, one in the fabric of the futon cover. He was shifting his hips. You licked a stripe up his length, pausing to check his expression. One eye pinched closed, the other barely opened to watch you. Mouth open, breathing ragged. That’s what you wanted to see. He licked across his teeth, shutting his good eye.

“Baby girl, don’t stop.”

You gave a gentle tug on his cock, his hips jerking.

“Please, c’mon, you can keep it up,” he huffed, “I’m so fuckin’ close.”

You wiped your chin on your shoulder before going back to work. Your dug your fingernails into his spine and sucked against him, right hand squeezing and stroking against him. He really was close. Less than a minute went by before he was shuddering with a stifled, broken sound. You swallowed, glad to have at least that question answered with the slimy texture on your tongue as you pulled away from him. Still tasteless, you noticed. You wiped your mouth on your hand, realizing that this stuff, skeleton monster cum, was also a similar color to his magic. More diluted, but definitely colored with magic. You swallowed the last of what was left in your mouth, watching Papyrus come down. His head was tipped back, and he was breathing deeply. He almost looked like he was trying to pass out. Which was just like him, actually. You sat straighter, realizing then you had a crick in your neck from being in that crouched position so long.

It caught your eye when you watched the magic his member was made of fizzle out and disappear. Well, it wasn’t needed anymore, you supposed. He only then touched you for the first time, laying his hand atop your head, gently petting your hair. Your heart jumped when he did that, but you calmed immediately. This hand wouldn’t hurt you. Not now.

You smiled, softly, rising to climb into his lap, straddling his hips. You held his face in your left hand and kissed along his brow. He smiled. You pressed your mouth against his, kissing him deeply. He sighed against your cheek when you pulled away. You slowly dismounted, heading towards the sink to wash your hand and your face.

You crawled up on the couch beside him, and he rested his head against your shoulder as the two of you sat in silence. He set his clothes to rights and you stroked down his back. You rubbed the soft fur of his coat between your fingers now and again. In minutes you realized that he had fallen asleep, because of course he had. You shifted yourself until you were more comfortable and decided to join him.

You had only just nodded off when your phone started to ring, abruptly waking the both of you. It was your parents. You flushed as you answered. You hadn’t told them that you were staying back at your place that night. It felt, again, like you were a teenage girl, sneaking around with your boyfriend. You really had just come back to your house because you were tired. The… _boyfriend activities_ hadn’t even been a thought in your mind at the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, I uh, decided to call myself Asexual until further notice. My old friend basically confirmed this, because she knew I wasn't a prude, but I also wasn't...interested(?) in boys (or girl) growing up? I dunno. She thought it was a little odd, but it was just how I was. I've been in the hospital quite a bit lately, and had to go in for a minor surgery, which I'm still recovering from, but with any luck, my health will improve. Tried coming out to my mom while I was waking up from anesthesia, but I don't think she took me seriously :'( I was slurring a little.
> 
> Reader is braver than I am. The "everyone's stronger than I am" sentiment runs deep. I originally typed up some of that paragraph as the footnote, then pulled a switcharoo with the "I" to "you". Not all of it, just some :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Smile for the Camera, Smile for Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815502) by [Goosy Writes (Goosygander)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goosygander/pseuds/Goosy%20Writes)




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